Emptiness

Not exactly a poem, at least not in the traditional sense. It's not written in the style of a poem.

I feel empty. When I look in the mirror, and look straight into the reflection of my blue eyes, it almost looks like the blue isn't there. It looks like I can see straight through them and into my soul. I can't see anything when I reflect on my life. I have no emotion, and I barely feel pain anymore. I do anything I can to feel something again. Sex, drugs, and alcohol fill my life. I look at the man I should be in love with, the man I remember falling in love with, and I can't feel what I used to. The excitement is gone, the spark in our relationship has died out. I stay with him, though. I can't bring myself to let go of him, because for small moments every now and then I can feel a fragment of the past flooding back to me. Just for a second, I can just barely feel that love again. I can feel that spark light up, like when a lighter is out of butane. You roll the metal wheel and press the button and sparks fly for a quick moment. That's how it feels. It's depressing that I can't feel anything without a shot of whiskey, or a line of coke, or a tab of acid, or a hit from a bong, or a pack of cigarettes, or several lines of crushed up percs or oxys. It's killing me slowly, and the only way to stop it is to kill myself faster.

Reviews

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

It's great job. Push on writing like this drama. Thanks for sharing.

[ZDMusgrove]

It's nice to see someone break out of the norm, though your writing does need a little more thought. Even if we don't mean to, a part of us will always show in our writing. In this writing I feel as if it isn't what truly is truly there. I feel like it is more farce than anything, but hey, this is just my opinion.

[Calamity]

Nothing wrong with a bit of gut wrench honesty and soul searching.
Knowing is half the battle. Good honest read.