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john-hawkinsPoems
I sit scouring the internet looking for some easy stimulation; distraction more than anything I sit alone, a special kind of silence looming over me; it would be petrifying if it wasn't so common a pulsating energy bubbles inside me, trapped, with no escape; it just vibrates there, relentlessly there is an itch in a cavern of my mind; buried deep down and hidden away, under piles of forgotten memories and unfulfilled dreams sleep feels like a myth; some old story told to cold scared children to distract them from the horrors of our world all four walls appear to be closing in; the faces of the ones I love slowly disappearing from memory; I am becoming someone else, something else it'll pass it always does until then I scour
0
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
Scourer
I sit scouring the internet looking for some easy stimulation; distraction more than anything I sit alone, a special kind of silence looming over me; it would be petrifying if it wasn't so common a pulsating energy bubbles inside me, trapped, with no escape; it just vibrates there, relentlessly there is an itch in a cavern of my mind; buried deep down and hidden away, under piles of forgotten memories and unfulfilled dreams sleep feels like a myth; some old story told to cold scared children to distract them from the horrors of our world all four walls appear to be closing in; the faces of the ones I love slowly disappearing from memory; I am becoming someone else, something else it'll pass it always does until then I scour
john-hawkins
Written by
john-hawkins
23
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
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