Lost or dead

Malik Harris 4 stories

Summary

I’m nothing but a faded sketch, A hollow echo in a world of noise. The mirrors—long rusted over— Can’t even reflect who I used to be. No longer a man, just a ghost, A shadow that clings to what’s left of me. Every bond I once held close is thirsty, Yet I am no river to quench their thirst. Even when I hold them close, Loneliness sinks its teeth in deep. In their eyes, I see nothing but fog, A blur where I once stood clear. I feel it, with every breath I take— I’m merely passing through these walls. Where have the faces gone, That I now sit in this silence, hollow? What’s the point in pretending? I’m shattered, wrecked beyond repair. Even now, in this broken state, Do you still think I belong to this world? I’ve long been diseased, Yet I walk this city like its savior. Release me from this endless thirst, For I am more barren than you know. Come, make a living off my bones— I’m the living dead, walking among you. I’ve endured my own deceit for too long, Now, all that’s left is a pitiful shell, a fool.