Jan 2016
Love,
Rage,
And all that comes within it.
Hate,
Happiness,
Only one now burns in me.
I'm empty,
Yet full,
Of things unwanted,
Because of you.
I'm tired,
Exhausted,
And yet my feet betray me,
They run.
They run,
Into pain,
My own destruction,
A hole,
Where light is non-existent.
Rage,
And all that comes within it.
Hate,
Happiness,
Only one now burns in me.
I'm empty,
Yet full,
Of things unwanted,
Because of you.
I'm tired,
Exhausted,
And yet my feet betray me,
They run.
They run,
Into pain,
My own destruction,
A hole,
Where light is non-existent.
9:45 AM on Friday the 22nd of January, 2016 marks the moment in which this sea of depression engulfed me into a suicidal mind state.
For the next few days, I will be posting the series of poems that I wrote in a hectic vibration of emotions - secretly - while my body was in the second period of school and my soul had lost control of it.
Each stanza of each poem was written on different sides of big pieces of paper (in order to reduce the chances of being caught) that I'd hurriedly discover in my netbook bag in a frantic search, as my hands vibrated and I needed to put something down on paper.
Poetry is my release. For the next few days, you will read my first words from my most fragile state.
For the next few days, I will be posting the series of poems that I wrote in a hectic vibration of emotions - secretly - while my body was in the second period of school and my soul had lost control of it.
Each stanza of each poem was written on different sides of big pieces of paper (in order to reduce the chances of being caught) that I'd hurriedly discover in my netbook bag in a frantic search, as my hands vibrated and I needed to put something down on paper.
Poetry is my release. For the next few days, you will read my first words from my most fragile state.
