Side Effects of COVID

I see a black hole in my mind. I drop a stone and I don't hear it fall.
It just an emptiness staring at me with not eyes, no mouth, and no soul.
Even with a change of scenery, new dialogue with a family or friend,
I hear the stone just clinking around, wanting rock bottom
and I wish it would end.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Feelings UNmutual.

I'm not good at feeling If it's needed to be shared. I can't bring someone close, without being scared. I can't quite shape it. It started since birth. It's like my heart's with God's people, but is fresh-out of self-worth. My heart belongs to the world,  because I believe in their fate, but I set up self-standards and tend to self-hate. Not an "image" self-hatred or where I am from, but a portrait self-image of who I've become. and it's easy to love and it's easy to say that you shouldn't judge this or act out in this way and it's easy to guide and not so easy to follow and it's not easy to fill your soul when it's hallow. I don't like sharing how I feel. Or who I've become, it's an attention unwanted, that makes me feel dumb. and the dumbness is numb. and the numb is the sum of the amount of good feeling that will never come.
Read more

You Could Have Called the Angels

You could have stopped it. I would have nothing bad to say. I wouldn't blame you. I sinned, not you. you're perfect. While the world was weighing you down with callous glances, and cold-heartedly shouted,"crucify him! CRUCIFY HIM!" You lay nailed, remained calm,saddened by what the world has become God's creations against one another we're tearing eachother apart like the plague. yet you hold no grudges We know how to live. We know how to love one another, what to say, not to say, not to kill, or lie, or cheat, or steal. Yet we live wrong. You could have called the angels. They could have filled the sky and blocked out the sun and mirrored the darkness we have allowed into our hearts. You could have shown you were the son of God. They would have changed their ways. For the time being. You could have called the angels and aborted your philantropic desire to be the ultimate sacrifice. but you didn't. I look around Jesus, a
Read more

Dreams Remind Me of a Small Child

Dreams remind me of a shy child, never speaking his mind. When you talk in your sleep late at night, Dreams try to speak. They inform you of your forgotten world, nestled in the cracks of creativity inside your brain. Improbable improbabilities and whatever what-not’s your inferior part of your brain conjures stimulates within your crevices of your imagination. It implores to be spread onto a mockingly white sheet of paper, Or shared through artwork and other forms of appreciations. It desperately wants you to remember what it was like to be a child. And live in an unreality. When you wake, you say, “What a strange dream I had? What did I dream?” That’s your dreams shying away. It tip toes past your eyes and quietly resides in the back of your mind, And backs up into your invented world, slowly closing the door behind him. Mental Note: Don't let yourself grow up on the inside.
Read more