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Sep 2018
well that's it
blazing flame of passion
snuffed, stifled, suffocated
all but forgotten in my
twisted love:
the lack thereof
emptiness, why so tangible?
so incompatible with reality
wired with lifelessness
dead in my arms as i
weep for it
still its dusty heart beats
with no indication of life
for mine beats too
withered and out of time
smothered with falsified feelings
saturated in what might be hatred
i haven't the mind to search
all i have are tattered pages and
a soul full of dust
the dust of a dwindling heart
infused with sorrow
,fading embers,
of a thousand dying stars
a thousand starving children
without the slightest comfort
in a world of tacks
everywhere we walk--
needles up. needles in
intravenous nihilism
twitching and trembling
until the veins burst
ruptured by loneliness
dire loneliness
is it better than the starving out there,
the starving in here?
an amalgam of stars
each imploding from its
tragic arrogance
why try, why give up?
it's easy to bash your skull against a
rockuntilyourbrainsstaineternity
but it's hard to let go too
to myself, why can't i?
is it easy, am i blind?
my struggle isn't null
my opinion is
null and void
void stains its own existence
a parody of itself
the Chaos of nothing
so I must reflect
Unnecessarily long, but hopefully wholesome. Feedback welcome.
Joe Beau
Written by
Joe Beau  18/M/The Void
(18/M/The Void)   
91
 
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