Noir

Wistful Thinking

The walls are gone.

Care. Gone.

Hate. Gone.

Love. Gone. 

Smiles. Gone.

Reasons for BEING. Gone.

 

There is nothing.

Black. 

Void.

Endless vacuum. 

Noir.

 

Mi mundo está rompiendo ,

Or is it because I'm trying too hard?

 

Maybe I should stop holding on. 

Let go.

See whats down there in the void.

My arms are tired.

Fingers fatigued.

Am I slipping? 

Or is it because I don't want to hold on anymore?

Holding on is hard.

 

They say love is the answer.

Your other half.

The missing piece.

But the hole is too large.

Pieces don't fit.

Maybe this one.

Maybe that piece.

Maybe the piece that's so far out of my reach that it's not even worth the effort or the pain.

Or maybe I'm scared.

 

Scared of the piece not fitting again.

Scared of being in a loop.

Scared of never escaping. 

I know.

I know.

I won't tell you.

But I know. 

 

Awkward silence.

And then it's back to nothing.

Smile for them. It's alright. Smile for them.

Then coast down some more.

Float gracefully down.

 

There is no bottom. 

You have to make your own end.

Don't think I don't know.

I know.

And I'm so very afraid.

Afraid of the dark.

The endless night. 

 

  • Author: Balancing Act (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 7th, 2018 00:32
  • Comment from author about the poem: I just... Need help I guess. I don't know anymore.
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 8
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Comments +

Comments1

  • Heartwriter

    Hang in there. You will know in time. We all wander around lost once in a while. Great write and good luck!



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