Cyclical

Cyclical

A Poem by Bill O. Writes

Like the wreck that turns heads
This all lacks structure
I was a mistake
I used to create sculptures 
from the scrap metal of my accidents
But the rust has eaten away at the best of it all
Inside out
Hollow fills
Be not deceived
The presence of nothingness
Is far more a burden
than my neck can bear

Every time I die
on impact
but then resurrected
just to command a new vessel to the same fate

© 2020 Bill O. Writes


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Added on June 2, 2020
Last Updated on June 2, 2020
Tags: depression, self-hate, self, hate, sadness, sad, relationships, love

Author

Bill O. Writes
Bill O. Writes

New Haven, CT



About
-Bill -30 years old. -Seemingly only able to be serious about writing As for my writing background: I have been writing since I was about 17 but had no place to share. Feel free to read wha.. more..

Writing
Holes Holes

A Poem by Bill O. Writes