in the absence of actuality
to save itself, my mind
must be made numb
by simply running from
one dream to another
lured into temporary bliss
with each sip, relationship, drug, job
triviality and banality
for most of my life,
i’ve done nothing but run
I think to love someone we have to break off a portion of our heart and give it to them.
then hope they give you their half to fill your void.
If not circulation is going to be difficult.
It's going to make blood harder to pump.
even if your lucky enough to get someones heart in return it's going to make you bleed differently. there's always going to be a crack in the middle of your chest.
you will never be whole you just have to hope their heart pumps harder. That their blood type matches yours.
again not a poem just my thoughts. as messed up as they may be.
— The End —