Weird, Strange, Lonely

Emptiness.

 

That’s honestly how it all feels.

 

It’s almost like you’re not here

There’s nothing inside of you

And you’re invisible to the world.

 

Weird, strange, lonely.

 

Feeling lonely, I think that’s what really makes this strange.

 

Yeah, you think about your day and can’t even remember what you did for half of it but why does it matter so much?

 

I guess humans have this need for memories, otherwise there’s no purpose.

 

Without memories what’s the point of living.

 

It’s like you do this grand gesture for someone just to make them happy, and suddenly they can’t even remember your own face when you walk through that door.

 

I guess that would hurt a lot.

 

No, I know it hurts a lot.

 

It hurts me when I can’t remember things I’ve been told that I have said or done, and it hurts me when I forget to do things I told myself to do.

 

I sit in my room and think, then I realize I’m not even thinking, I’m just…blank.

 

I feel like I leave my body for a moment then come back and I know where I am, I know I’ve been here, I know I was just spacing out, but I don’t know why and I don’t know the point of even doing so.

 

Why do I feel so empty inside my own head?

 

It’s just weird, and strange, and lonely.

 

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741