I stare into empty message spaces thinking
Do I want to?
Or even more often
What do I do?
Silence follows
The fault in the silence is loneliness
Like a hand presses from inside my face
My head hurts
Where do I start or start or even know where trust is?
He wished this life on me
He wished this life on me
I really like your stuff, sooo …. existential, so….. raw, sooo depressing. If I like it, well, maybe it sucks, because what do I know? Be your own person, a real being, magical, and powerful, because I chose to read this instead of the other of million blogs that are so sweet they make me choke. I really don’t have time for this my dear. You are just one orgasm away from me disappearing, and then, where would I be?
I appreciate the time you’re taking to read my work.
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