i feel like writing poetry.
making something beautiful.
something to make one understand how i am feeling.
something to make one feel how i am feeling.
but really,
how do i feel?
i feel as if i was thrown into this windowless room of mine,
i lay down on my bed,
shut off all the lights,
and was wisped away by the amazing and terrifying emotions in this dark isolation.
in other words. i feel nice. not amazing, not awful,
just a comfortable numbness of a smile.
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