mrmuller

Alright, I guess since I have nothing much to say, I'll post another of my poems. If you missed any of them, and want to read them, you can check my last couple updates. But either way, this is like my second favorite. Feel free to comment.


Soil

Nothing, that is what's supporting me. Nothing, I feel like everything has disappeared. It's all just dissipated and gone abroad. I would do anything, no matter how hard or dangerous, just for a short moment of joy and excitement. Or to espape. I would escape to another world, better or worse. So long as I feel free and enjoy the journey. But as something can look so wonderful and fill you with adulation from far away or in an unattached and disembodied state, that same thing can also turn out to make you feel sad and alone when you're in contact or faced with it. But I prepared myself to leave and get away so long ago, the world has taken away my ability to do so. All it said to me was that I should just be satisfied and pleased with this blemish and disgrace of a life that I'm in. This nothing of a world that supports me. Where everything is defunct and gone. It's where I'm plagued by a man that I call 'myself' and all I yearn for is to change who I am, so I can be someone else.