If you don’t imagine, nothing ever happens at all.

sometimes i lie
on the kitchen floor looking at imaginary butterflies and birds

the ones that won’t let me leave
are the prettiest.

why have i grown so strong and am yet
so weak
and alone

and why do i never fear the dark?

i used to have nightmares
of silent houses and broke-down flats

but they’re gone.
and all that’s left

is emptiness.

i was so scared of those nightmares only to figure now
that the emptiness inside me is even scarier

and i don’t know how to take it.

"There are so many things making people sick.
But loneliness is what kills them in the end."

"I’m sorry I don’t talk, I know you would listen, but I’m tired, and there’s an emptiness that burns me to the bone, and a voice in me you could never hear with words."