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Rated: E · Poetry · Political · #2323074
This is the Result of the Death of God
Where am I?
Who am I?
Do you even know?
With eyes wide shut
The sore eyes of the sightless
Pins and needles but otherwise senseless
Anxiety and depression cuts through the numbness
Independence but nothing to celebrate
Foreboding imaginations constantly inundate
Fear filling the void of my mental real estate
Trump lives rent-free and continues to strangulate
Every waking moment
My sleep
My dreams
My sexuality is all I am
My friends and family
How could I be so blind?
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