Untitled

Death by
a thousand papercuts,
the careless finality of words
where gestures would be far more appreciated,
even if futile.
Do you have any idea what it feels like
to be thrown away so easily,
unnoticed,
without mattering?
You’re a throwaway line,
thought of in the moment
and then discarded,
lost
not even to dreams,
lost
and never found,
lost
and lost and

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in On Depression, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Untitled

  1. Özken Trafo says:

    Whatever the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve. (Bir insan her neyi hayal edip inanıyorsa, ona ulaşabilir.) – Napoleon Hill

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.