Ice Cold

your mind starts to crumble like a sheet of paper written with words that no longer have meaning,

when the thought of joy is absent,
when you feel as if your brain is a prison wall with writings of anger and misery,
tallying down the days of when your soul will drift away,
when all things horrifying turns into comedy,
the fear in your heart is now extinct,
your eyes used to have a hint of liveliness in them,
but now that disintegrated leaving trails of emptiness behind,
over you cascades the shadow of darkness, 
when every morning you wake up from your hour of sleep and can feel aches inside of you because you’re still breathing,
you’re alive but feel well past dead,
the beams of light feel like a flame burning onto the sensitivity of the skin,
when complete darkness is your only comfort zone,
your tear ducts are arid like sand paper rubbed on drained carapace,
your body becomes paralyzed to any affliction, 
you are death walking on foot with little or no life left in you,
the only insufficient amount of contentment is the sake of gratification for others,
you show them that their will be a light at the end of that atramentous tunnel, 
but you don’t think there is one for you,
you’re clouded with the shadows of bereavement,
but you keep your sorrow to yourself, 
you do everything for the sake of others, 
to see the glow of euphoria twist the corner of their mouths to form a smile,
only to forget the cloud of emptiness that surrounds you, the yearning for death to come, the faint touch of sancity, and the insanity that roams through your mind taking over your thoughts to destroy what’s left in you,
but then again,
is there anything left anymore?
 
This poem is about: 
Me

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