Lost in a hole of darkness,
An endless cycle.
Swallowed by this Whirlpool,
Might turn out to be vital.
On a downward spiral,
Thoughts spin & twist to Suicidal.
Privacy is the enemy of a deep thinker.
I Live a nightmare,
Yet Somehow still called a big dreamer.
I needed space since Aliens star in scenes.
To Suck me in,
Like vacuums stuck inside a wash machine.
Dry me off & Jack me off.
There's No Sex,
In The Vortex.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem