The noise in my head it too loud, though the house is silent, the music doesn't play and the wind is not playing with the trees outside.
Such an overwhelming silence that seems to only exist to remind me of how alone I am.
Im the one thats missing when there are people around me; the one missing out in conversations because the only thing I can hear is the echo of the tears I shed when nobody sees me.
Im invisible. How can anyone see through me when I've been reduced to nothing? Oh, the fire! Once I was fire. Or I thought I was. Maybe it was all just smoke.
The fallacy of believing Id be someone special, that Id mean something to someone, that I could make someone happy. That I was worth it. I should have believed them when they said I wasn't. Maybe no words were ever spoken, but they made sure to hurt what I wanted to become.
Seems like everything I touch turns to dust, and I don't even want to dust this lousy place I inhabit anymore. So there I lay, occupying space.
My mind got so tired pretending to exist, yelling in vain, to the top of my lungs for a hand to lift me up, that now its doing its best to destroy the body that carries it. And that's ok. Nobody will be able to blame me this time when I finally let that last breath out.
The echo of my solitude resembles the dreams I used to have. A novelty at first, an utopian reality now.
YOU ARE READING
Unknown double life
PoetryUsing poetry and twisting words to describe the ups and downs of a love that never was, but always is.
