I'm feeling like a hole in the wall
empty but patchable
ripped yet repairable
dead.
There's so much to a name
-would a rose by any other smell as sweet?-
but lately I wonder
about mine.
What does it mean?
And more importantly,
who is she?
I swear, I am more myself yesterday than today's current phase, but I cant remember yesterday to be able to tell myself how to feel alive again.
I don't feel dead.
I just don't feel me.
But who even
am I?
Hello, I'm Nobody. Who are you?
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
I'm feeling like a hole in the wall
empty but patchable
ripped yet repairable
dead.
There's so much to a name
-would a rose by any other smell as sweet?-
but lately I wonder
about mine.
What does it mean?
And more importantly,
who is she?
I swear, I am more myself yesterday than today's current phase, but I cant remember yesterday to be able to tell myself how to feel alive again.
I don't feel dead.
I just don't feel me.
But who even
am I?
Hello, I'm Nobody. Who are you?
excerpt from an Emily Dickinson poem.
