It's two blue ticks mocking,
With a Lucifer smile.
An "I don't know know"
To a "what are we"
Feel it, touch it,
More real than
The blood oozing out.
Holding your own hand,
For warmth in the night
Crying moonbeams.
Estranged self and the
Spaceships are empty
Cardboard boxes again.
No.
Not darkness.
It's the absence of somebody
To share your light with.
It's words. without souls.
And people. Without meaning.
It's "nothing
It's a "let it be."
Jul 11, 2020
Jul 11, 2020 at 6:59 PM UTC
It's two blue ticks mocking,
With a Lucifer smile.
An "I don't know know"
To a "what are we"
Feel it, touch it,
More real than
The blood oozing out.
Holding your own hand,
For warmth in the night
Crying moonbeams.
Estranged self and the
Spaceships are empty
Cardboard boxes again.
No.
Not darkness.
It's the absence of somebody
To share your light with.
It's words. without souls.
And people. Without meaning.
It's "nothing
It's a "let it be."
