Blue Skies lost their Wonder

I'm finished with this suffering.
I'm done with all this pain.
I'm sick of all this rambling.
I will not be the same.


I wouldn't say I'm happy now.
I wouldn't say I'm not.
I don't feel really anything.
It's really not a lot.


Apathy running boldly,
Coursing through my veins.
Confusion bubbling upward,
Not sure of what pertains.


Blue skies lost their wonder.
Dark clouds lost their scare.
Forgetting how to smile,
Yet I don't even care.


Failing doesn't matter.
Success is not a choice.
I can't even think right now.
How can I have a voice?


The lights are all burnt out now.
I'm sitting here alone.
Yet there are people everywhere.
I'm better on my own.

Drip.

This poem is dedicated to an individual that would freak out if I put their name on the internet. You know who you are. With love, your poem.

Drip. Feel the sweat.
Drop. See the blood.
Tick. Claw your way.
Tock. To the top.
Drip. Make mistakes.
Drop. Pay the price.
Tick. Fall back down.
Tock. To your start.
Drip. Understand.
Drop. Life goes.
Tick. Then accept.
Tock. You are more.