Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2016
I am in loathsome desperation
This lack of feeling is drowning me
And I can't find a sufficiently safe distraction to break me through the surface
(I'm not sure I want to be safe)

Buried beneath the world of novels
Living vicariously through characters that I wished were real
Scrambling to bump into an emotion that will jump start my heart

I feel dead
I want someone to punch a hole in my gut with their lips
I want someone's touch to ignite the fire
(I want to meet an arsonist)

Where is that spark that I used to lust for?
Am I blind or broken?
Possibly just lost

Suffering through horrified adrenaline withdrawal
I'm a ****** for standing on the edge
Please, someone push me into relapse
I am no longer capable of feeling butterflies.....
L Smida
Written by
L Smida
465
   --- and Historian E Lexano
Please log in to view and add comments on poems