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Far From Shape

By Conlan Nielsen

By Conlan NielsenPublished 9 months ago 1 min read

There is no light here

Feeling like nights must be survived

Concepts of sleep have eluded me

I wake only in fear when succumbing to exhaustion

Its been so very difficult to sleep

Infuriated but gratuitous

Fate weigh lays my sanity to keep

But still plunges me in darkness I cannot protect myself from

Darkness that infects, writhes within bringing about the same

panicked questions

What the hell is happening to me?

What the hell am I?

Uncontrollablly, it hurts to breathe

When deprived of "feeling" I ask myself

"is this what it's like to die?"

Feeling so close to being one with a paracausal silence.

Each story

Each envision

Each possible outcome I discern

They all end the same


sad poetry

About the Creator

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