Blank

No description, no details.

It's all left to you to figure it out.

Nothing here and nothing there.

Blank in the heart, lost from it all.

No connections, no relating.

Blank to the touch, blank through my voice.

Tired of excuses, tired of stories.

Nothing here and nothing there.

Blank pages are as full-filling as it gets.

Sick of everything, sick of being sick.

Lost, wanderer, blank at heart.

Numb, emotionless and yet thoughtful.

Blank to everyone and everything.

Nothing inside to show to anyone.

No answer to my blank questions full of emotions.

I don't get people anymore and I no longer care.

Love is a sick joke.

Life is all you, blank or full.

Deceit, lies and facades...

No one really gets the whole truth.

I give up, analysis is mindless thought.

Blank, empty, my heart is dead.

Nothing left to keep it beating.

Why is there nothing left? I just don't know.

Why? Why can't I feel, why don't I care anymore?

Blank as the left margin.

Blank heart, tired soul.

"Sometimes the day feels too much like the past." - Atmosphere