I feel I’m slightly vacant, you’ll have to wipe the dust. The places I will drift off, not if, they are a must. Intrusive in the worst of ways, but tranquil at the least. I open up my soul again and watch the demons feast. Beneath me are a thousands deaths, above, the sky of blue. And once again I’m vacant, except the thoughts of you. I write so much, write so damn hard, there’s anger in my hands. All because I’m vacant, and no one understands. There’s not a neon sign in sight, not a person I can see. All because I’m vacant, and no one’s here to see. Be still my heart within my chest, I’m begging not to cry. There’s only death beneath my feet, and nothing in the sky. I’m full of breath and hopeless thoughts, I’m clouds filled up with rain. All because I’m vacant, of everything but pain.
Alexandra L. Narron