Sunday Sonnet: Whirlpool

Scared to be lonely; so never alone,
But slowly we’re drifting apart.
Feeling like nowhere is what I’d call home,
Still searching to find my own heart.

Reading Chaucer; The Canterbury Tales,
But I can’t seem to follow the plot.
Feeling my life become a long list of fails,
But I don’t feel like feeling a lot.

Finding relations to Satan himself,
Deep within ourselves;
It brings us down from atop our shelf.
The weight of depression; how deeply it delves.

When you’re gone, my brain don’t work.
I never smile; I simply smirk.


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