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marc-jamesPoems
Sometimes I feel like I'm here, but not really. My breath moves like last words, slow, full of missing you dearly I smile and wave at people, my life seems dynamic. But inside my mind, sh sh sh Just white noise, static I often look in the mirror and think is this me? These Halloween eyes with cracked skin underneath? I feel alone but not lost, I know where I am. But if one is lost in his mind, what is life but a scam. I Need help today, right now, real handy! Because I feel like a Jack who's in need of his Sally, Like jack my emptiness began to grow, way before these hallowed eyes, this skin, breached with holes. It's been growing like fungus putting it's static in my ears It's been hiding like a rat, only coming out in my tears. I often wondered what this feeling is, and I now know. the fog of my life is lifting and this feeling now shows It's there and so clear, but it hurts still the same, it's been buried for so long deep down under my veins, It burns my veins cold and makes icicles of my bones And there it is, the feeling: "A longing that I've never known"
0
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
Jack & Sally
Sometimes I feel like I'm here, but not really. My breath moves like last words, slow, full of missing you dearly I smile and wave at people, my life seems dynamic. But inside my mind, sh sh sh Just white noise, static I often look in the mirror and think is this me? These Halloween eyes with cracked skin underneath? I feel alone but not lost, I know where I am. But if one is lost in his mind, what is life but a scam. I Need help today, right now, real handy! Because I feel like a Jack who's in need of his Sally, Like jack my emptiness began to grow, way before these hallowed eyes, this skin, breached with holes. It's been growing like fungus putting it's static in my ears It's been hiding like a rat, only coming out in my tears. I often wondered what this feeling is, and I now know. the fog of my life is lifting and this feeling now shows It's there and so clear, but it hurts still the same, it's been buried for so long deep down under my veins, It burns my veins cold and makes icicles of my bones And there it is, the feeling: "A longing that I've never known"
marc-james
Written by
marc-james
27/American
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
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