Growing Dead

I fade into myself,

Shut out the world,

wander aimlessly into the absurd.

My mind, a cement mixer,

Stirring reality into dreams

which in turn are nightmares.

What sanity is left,

Is strangled by insanity and grips on to

what should be

My soul.

I am lost, overwhelmed by my thoughts.

There is no future, only past.

Every waking moment, comes with a tear.

There is no passion

no love left to give.

Only a loneliness

that is unfelt by any other.

I swallow hard

and feel a lump of sadness

slide down into me.

I am dead to the world,

As they are dead to me...

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Andrew Tyler McCown]

I really like your last two lines. but overall this is not your best poem. It lacks the power and conviction featured in some of your others

[barricade]

cud relate to it really well..."growing dead" , "lost"...especially the last lines "i am dead to the world, as they are dead to me"...cn feel it...

expresses the numbness developing within...going all cold...