Empty (Part 2)

A Note To Readers : Read this aloud in a perfectly silent room, feel the emotions, it's worth experiencing. (~billymacdeus)

Empty (Part 2)

I stared at the empty wall. 
It was all messed up, 
dull, 
irrelevant. 
I can see what were before myriad attempts 
at decoration; 
livening 
but they were destined 
to either not last 
or worse, 
fail. 
I succumbed to the floor 
tired, 
contemplating over 
what I had just done. 

It felt right at the moment 
but 
it also felt like 
I let go 
of something important 
that it was foolish to do so. 
I bowed my head 
over my knees, 
my forehead flat on it. 

I knew I wanted 
to cry 
but I guess 
I just was tired 
and sick 
of this 
that I cannot 
anymore. 

I'm tired
of all the pretenses 
that I've told myself 
and others. 
I'm tired of 
holding onto 
the fact that 
all I that I ever had 
were temporary. 
I'm tired of
this goddamn thing 
altogether. 

I knew before then 
that it was somehow a dream come true 
but as with all dreams, 
I must wake up. 
And I just did – yet every once in a while, 
I find myself 
wanting 
to 
dream again...


~Mikez Magtibay


Savor the part 1 of this poem here.