I'm sitting, slouched over,
on the edge of the world.
It's like a dam, except there's no bottom.
Around me the water flows off of the edge.
And above me, a storm wall between me and the rest of the universe forms.
This is the wall of which I despise.
I am cut off,
without hope,
and without love.
I am cut off from a world which I also despise,
but I think I despise being alone more,
rather than being around people I hate.
Is that an awful thing to say?
I don't know.
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 2:30 AM UTC
I'm sitting, slouched over,
on the edge of the world.
It's like a dam, except there's no bottom.
Around me the water flows off of the edge.
And above me, a storm wall between me and the rest of the universe forms.
This is the wall of which I despise.
I am cut off,
without hope,
and without love.
I am cut off from a world which I also despise,
but I think I despise being alone more,
rather than being around people I hate.
Is that an awful thing to say?
I don't know.
I wrote this a while back, but never published it. I felt like it didn't deserve to be read. Instead, I just think that I need to let my voice be heard. I've been shut in my room for some time now, and I think it's time to leave. Hopefully someone can relate.
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