Sometimes I am empty. There's nothing inside me. No emotion. I can't feel. And tears start coming down my face because I can't feel anything. I'm so numb. My hands start fumbling for the cold, metal object I old myself I'd hide away. But in the end I'm victim to my own mind. The player and the watcher in this cruel game.
YOU ARE READING
excerpts
Poetryexcerpts from books i'll never write advice & nonsensical blurbs realizations & regrets heartbreak & pain thoughts & fears hopes & dreams shorts & stories forever ongoing, so long as our minds do not stop imagining and inventing and we do not sto...
