Suicide Note.
books upon books
the last page of my moleskin
journal would frighten me
fateful questions play on my lips
left to stand aimlessly on the edge
of my tongue —
I wonder if there is ever an out
to where we know all has been said
to where nothing more can be felt?
and tatted at birth, my number seems to be
the one tonight —
I have depleted my mind’s musings, my heart also
of its childish wants —
finality calls in ashen lands
and blank pages present more
than emptiness
or maybe I am wrong —
and it is the emptiness of this remaining page
that I truly fear.
(via thewritersaddress)
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books upon books the last page of my moleskin journal would frighten me fateful questions play on my lips left to stand...
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(But this is brilliant btw!)
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