The hum of the fridge, the washing machine spinning in the background, a ticking clock in a quiet room…

Those seem to be the moments when it hits me, an I realise how bad things have gotten, how bad my life is, an how alone I really feel

Where is the boy I used to know, used to be, always happy, with a smile that would make people think butter wouldn’t melt

I used to be him, so he’s still in here somewhere, in the dark, locked away an alone

Now I only pretend, the memory of that boy a script I live off of
I think we all hear the person we once were in our subconscious, calling out an asking ‘what happened to you’

A mirror, reflecting back the person we have become

We call out for help, an in return, what we get back is only the echo


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s