Ahhh! I can't remember when this was written, but I'm sure it was awhile back. I do enjoy that I actually wrote something pretty good in the past.
Before you go on with you're critique, do know that I was quite... unbalanced, for a couple of years. I wasn't exactly in the same place as everybody else, so you're reading the words of a lunatic. Congratulations, haha.
The sun collides with the night,
as I lay on pins and needles.
Blankets of cobwebs inhibit me.
My eyes are lost on the ceiling
as I drain the day behind a brick wall.
You are yesterday, always yesterday,
two weeks, months, years from now,
still my yesterday.
I wrap my arms around your shadow,
creep my fingers into your hair.
I reassure myself that it is I, who cannot feel,
that your breath still caresses my cheeks, lips, skin,
that your warmth still heals me.
Morning greets me unwelcoming.
Throughout today, I slowly abandon my mind.
The sun and night collide again,
and I am back to the brick wall,
pushing, shoving, screaming,
a restless maniac,
who breathes only to remember.
