There's an empty space in my mind
That's never been filled
I wonder now if it'll ever be -
I've tried this and that
One thing, then the next thing.
It's not like I'll write
About darkness smothering
And bloody red tears, just dripping -
I'm over that.
But the empty space is still there, consuming.
It's a muggy grey cloud
That cant be filled,
With posessions, people, things -
Not even happy friends, no.
When I'm in company I'm still alone, quietly.
I could ingore it, quite easily
More often than not
But my mind back to sharp focus always brings -
The silence that is my unique mortality
The silence that is, simply, me.
Posts
