Left crumpled, I sit alone,
Not quiet alone,
Just silent riot alone.
I try to think something
That feels better than this,
It doesn’t have to be good,
Just better than this.
But my mind just plays tricks
And it’s so good with its traps,
So I think of nothing,
But that’s something
I guess.
a.l.c
pouringtruth 
😦 I can understand that feeling.
“I try to think something
That feels better than this,
It doesn’t have to be good,
Just better than this.”
It’s like being in the in-between with that feeling. Any feeling would be better than pure isolation and loneliness; that alone can feel like a void itself, it just is draining. This is a very evocative poem to me and it’s beautifully penned. Very visceral as well.
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Yes, it is draining. it causes the brain to over think and then this poem was born 😛 haha!😊 thank you so much for reading!
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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