my old thoughts are starting to return again
where days turn to nights yet it’s all the same
where my words express how I really think
yet covered around people with a smile and a blink
where nihilism is suddenly appealing
and nothing exists or matters but the ceiling
where life is just a cycle living for others
decisions based on friends, family, even acquaintances
it’s a lonely life, thinking nothing but despair
the back up of happiness waiting, if I decide to care
Vacant Writings 