Life in Third Person

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By Lovesick and Sick of It •

The writer sits, pen in hand She knows she hasn't written in a while She thought maybe she'd start writing again Considering she writes when she's depressed.... She sighs And wants to cry And wants to sleep Because it doesn't hurt when she sleeps.... Why has she slipped back into this? She asks herself She was never like this When she was with him.... She was happy When she was with him.... She was in love When she was with him.... And she's still in love But that love is denied And so, she sits- Depressed and writing Without him

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March 16, 2006 05:35Loneliness is condescending

you can really feel the pain real or not within this poem and it remindes me of the way i sort of wirte so i can let go of the feelings i dont want