deepundergroundpoetry.com
Barren.
It’s barren, this spot in my chest
Meant to hold the beating organ
That keeps us alive
And my eyes remain dry, void
Of the emotions used to empathize
I’m not quite sure how long
I’ve felt trapped this way
Lost, wandering in an endless maze
Where every face seems the same
And home seems farther than where
It was left, leaving me to feel as if
I’m walking in place
I suppose I’m tired of leaning
Into others as if they are my
Missing puzzle piece
For they cannot explain my
Deep state of melancholia
And when they leave, I am left more
Lost and devastated than before
Ripped from the illusion of what
I thought could be and suddenly
Strewn in front of them as if
Just another puppet for amusement
Oh, how I wish to disappear,
Be left forgotten as if I
Was never even here…
Meant to hold the beating organ
That keeps us alive
And my eyes remain dry, void
Of the emotions used to empathize
I’m not quite sure how long
I’ve felt trapped this way
Lost, wandering in an endless maze
Where every face seems the same
And home seems farther than where
It was left, leaving me to feel as if
I’m walking in place
I suppose I’m tired of leaning
Into others as if they are my
Missing puzzle piece
For they cannot explain my
Deep state of melancholia
And when they leave, I am left more
Lost and devastated than before
Ripped from the illusion of what
I thought could be and suddenly
Strewn in front of them as if
Just another puppet for amusement
Oh, how I wish to disappear,
Be left forgotten as if I
Was never even here…
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