The dull ache of Nothing sits heavy in the center
A need to move, speak, breathe, create
Sheets holding like a cell
Regrets, these useless burdens with steel grips
Unending, whisper
The cracks in paint are memorized
Reflect behind closed lids
Cling desperate to the motions, preserve this mirrored self
Revealed to none, the secret screams
Complete Anonymous
Beautiful writing, wish I had thought of some of your lines…I can relate.
LikeLiked by 1 person