this is… depressive, suicidal- i wouldn’t say. I’d say more like an aftermath, a deep sadness that comes from realizing, from knowing the truth about life and living.
and all in between.
An epitaph for life….
I’m wasted, losing time I’m a foolish, fragile spine I want all that is not mine I want him but we’re not right In the darkness I will meet my creators And they will all agree, that I’m a suffocator I should go now quietly For my bones have found a place to lie down and sleep Where all my layers can become reeds All my limbs can become trees All my children can become me What a mess I leave To follow