What's that I hear you cry, dear readers? Do I have another morose poem for you today? Why yes I do! Soz about all the feelings, guys...I'm in the grip of one of life's major heartbreaks. I ain't the first and by sure as heck ain't gon' be the last, but it's apparently manifesting itself through my work (and the monotonous hours of crying and wanting to vomit), so you're just going to have to DEAL, right? Right. I'm glad we're on the same page. Literally! LOL, see, I can still be funny! *insert fart noise*.
Day 25, whut whut!
Dull Days
The clock is
harbouring secrets.
What time
was it you left?
When was I really alive?
Happiness is
a temporary disguise.
Underneath
it we are all in the clutches of longing,
longing for
that underappreciated past.
We can say, “Today
was a good day.
I did not
cry,” but what does that mean, really?
I had
forgotten how good it felt
to taste water
after a meal.
So much has
changed.
One day, we
will wonder
where these
days went,
wonder why
we sprinkled them away
like salt
from clammy fingertips.
The threads,
once so tightly woven,
are working
their way loose.
We grow slack
with despair.
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