Sometimes I may as well just not be here
I should be invisible
Does anybody really care at all
That I am here?

My head is hurting with all these words
I hurt from every pore
I wonder if anyone would miss me
If I wasn’t here anymore?

It’s not like anyone would notice
How would it make a difference?
I wish someone would tell me what to do

Is it going to be like this forever
Will I always be like the wind
Everywhere and nowhere
Not really touching anything

Unless I’m in a rage?
Crying only tears of death
Torment, torture
Just want to be loved

A need for protection
That isn’t coming from above
This can’t be my life
This just cannot be it

Emptiness returns
From a decade of
Hauntings, and a realisation
That everything is exactly the

Same. Not even one thing
Just one thing
Has even had, the slightest bit of

2 thoughts on “Eighteen

  1. I have just stumbled onto your blog and am completely mesmerized. It is beautiful — beautiful poetry, beautiful words … beautiful. I hope the sadness that is conveyed in these poems is being quenched with God’s love.
    God bless you.


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