I feel burned out.
I want time to learn to love myself, but can't in these endless days.
Oh do I miss a silent and nostalgic night.
I miss feeling passionately.
But I still do.
Is it the endless caffeine that streams through my veins?
Or is that a symptom.
I try to wake up.
The pressure suffocates me.
I crave loneliness.
I feel love.
- Author: polillaoscura (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: November 24th, 2023 20:18
- Comment from author about the poem: Friday night
- Category: Sad
- Views: 1
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