Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
words cannot contain that which does not existso cold, so empty, so pointless
what is my purpose
why does the world feel like the relentless wind
that will blow my soul away
it feels like a ghost
fragile to the touch
the fibers of my being
coming apart at the seams.
an empty shell without drive or worth
like i could....like i could what?
i just FEEL
but there is only one problem
i can't feel
the only thing that i can feel
is the knowledge that I
am on the bring of waking in the morning
simply to remind myself that i can
arising simply to watch the sun rise
only to have it set again...
if i can even bring myself to wake for that
with the guilt of knowing another day went by wasted
no action amidst this rhythmic rise and set
a gaping hole in my chest
where my hope used to be
the light of a person i used to be
and don't know if i can ever be again
hollow laughs, plastic smiles
what hope can one receive from others
if one cannot have hope in oneself.
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