Queasy

Kill the noises around me. Got no one to which I can
confide what is wrong with me.
I can't concede any of the wild guesses and suspicions made
to my adress. I can't liberate the deepest hurt I'm
experiencing. Trying to introduce the shit inside me would
be useless as nobody would understand.
Incurring myself by muting my mouth while the
thaughts run free.
A rare feeling of emptyness fills me. Nostalgic images
of who I used to love. Seeing facets of their relations which
never had been given to me. My lips are dry while I
procure the things that I never had obtained.
Once I ran to them now I crawl away while I notice
I'm queasy.
I slump into a dried up wasteland, smacked down
while hearing my bones snap with amazing ease.
Lie there bleeding in that empty place where i can't
be set free.