Whispers of the night
Are more familiar to me
Then my own mind.

In the night nothing can be
Seen but darkness yet the
Brightness of morning always
Seems to peak through.

All the broken promises always
Become more when the night
Is no more, and morning comes again.

All the love I felt or lack thereof
Seemed to run from me and left me
With an endless sadness until
I became no more.

I am not happy or sad nor evil or nice
And I wish to be neither.

A sound of numbness has consumed
Since 13 or perhaps since I saw the
First morning.

I’ve had one to call my friend everyone
Else to contain my boredom.

I have no connection with anything or
Anyone the morning touches.

I care not for rules because they
Make cause me to act a certain
Way when I desire to be nothing.

I am enchanted by all these feelings
Of ending it all but I don’t seem to
Want to die.

I feel no remorse or empathy For those
I hurt and have no care for those I
Claim to love.


The numbness in my heart is a
Feeling that I now call normal.

I am nothing but the darkness,
In the night, even so, the day always comes
And I again have to perform.