No, I don't

No I don't miss anyone because there never was one and if I reach to find those thoughts the fall, between my fingers.And once I know as I hear that this could wake me but now it seems to go too deep this need for sleep and yet not finding anything that was, or will be, but that just seems so fine to me. I don't know or care where I land during flight, no longer is it apparent who can be the land. and it again occurs to me that the only love in life is me. i only miss what did not exist.
 

Reviews

[Thomas B. Buckman]

Reclusive, angry, and poetic.
Nicely done.