Things that i will always be quiet about, People that hear me utter a lot, but never hear more than what leaves my mouth, the graves I have dug, the thoughts that were lost, I dont remember how to feel, I just know what each feeling is about, the experience reminds me of what should I be, what thoughts would bloom in the mind of me, yet like an empty canvas, my insides are blank, like a canvas painted with all thats bright and dark, with a new sheet to cover, everything that ever was even the void hides so much sometimes, information paradox is at the heart, I hide behind the term, I can't feel, where my mind reels into the abyss of me. The grave has the depth of earth, so many thoughts I have left uncurled, who would care, for the thoughts with no feel, I cant cry no tears of pain, nor scream or shout, my anger is transient, filled with doubt, I care for the wall, the wood and the floor, cause the pain I feel, wont feel to me, It would pass away, I will forget about thee, but the wall would remember, the wood would crumble, the floor remembers all the steps taken on he, I would pass by, from one feel to another, dismantling all the moments I have ever had, keeping it inside, burying it deep in my heart, digging somewhere that doesnt exist anymore,

I dont know how much i have left, with anyone care to unravel my self, not give away or hide, see what can never be shown, people can understand silence, see what hides behind the cold eyes and heart, what I am, is quiet, still loud like thunder, I speak more to hide more, everything passing away, I feel like I have no soul. I dont have anyone to talk to, thats no lie, I am scared of my own thought, I have no conversations with myself any more, even though my thoughts go from one part to another, finding a place to belong, some place to call a home like no other, yet I dont have anyone to talk to, my mind has left my mind, my soul has no core, I cant even talk to myself anymore, I am quiet no on the outside, I dont hide my thoughts behind sweet lies, I am quiet, to me, to myself, to I, there is no sweet lies, there is silence, an unending perpetual meditation, the end of my life is nigh.

#poetry