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Passive



The room is hazy with aggravation
And I am sick and vacant
In my passivity.

It settles in my throat
And un-ignites behind my eyes
The feeling of isolation,
Bruised with color and
Severed veins.

The window is open
And I shake
Because I feel the ghosts
Crawling through.



Author notes

depression

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Comments


  • Exodus gold member
    May 6, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Beautifully descriptive!

    This was such a lovely change from some of the pieces I've read. You've taken not the situation but the feeling itself and turned it into art.

    Thank you