Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2014
Cold.
Unresponsive to the world.
But feels the same pain as the other.
Shells it, as if protecting a child.
Only will it reveal, when nothing else matters.

Hollow.
Complete nothing.
When the pain awakes in sight of terror.
Feeling, equals non-existence.
As blows hurdle off, like hitting a ghost.
Me
Written by
Me  22/lost
(22/lost)   
476
   SPT
Please log in to view and add comments on poems