brianna-jullichWhisper

American

Sort

Sort

A manifest to broken souls.The death of a child / Cannot be portrayed into words / But only understood

34

822

I am not a writer.I am not a writer. I am millions of atoms carrying energy from my heart to my / fingertips. And I thank this pen for its generosity, and I beg forgiveness from / this paper. I am not a writer; I simply bleed ink that shifts its shape to help

18

743

I didn't liveWhen you live through depression, you lose your sense of time. / The days and nights drag on for so long that eventually everything runs together. / You can't tell the difference between the sunrise and sunset, six o'clock in the morning or six o'clock at night.

10

640

Mirrors of the Universe.Perhaps I was too blunt / But I do believe that when the stars / Run away from the night sky

7

541

Miles to go.How sad it is to be anything at all. How sad it is to love anything at all, to leave it all behind. And laying with your heart beside mine, I wonder, have our souls ever crossed paths before? I think of all the nights I wondered the streets as a zombie, or perhaps a vampire at that. Searching for anyone to suck the life out of so I could regain my own. / How sad it is to walk through a door and hear the clicking of the lock behind you. / How sad it is to wish death upon myself so I will never have to love again.

58

482

Hello PoetryVoting