troubled and wronged,
I wonder down street by street,
never glancing up towards the name,
just running for nothing,
believing something,
a lost cause of motivation,
bursts through my veins
with every pacing step
I try to maintain control,
but there is only so much
a brokenheart can hold,
I want to feel invisible
like the pain isn't there,
but a dissection is if all
a heart to bear,
so instead I write,
to sooth the frustrations,
and I like to dance around
the thoughts of a suicidal
immitation,
invisible I want to feel,
like the wind,
that carries me as I run,
but I know,
that Nowhere is where I'm going,
because Nowhere is where I've come from