My loneliness

My loneliness has no language, it's abusive of morning, afternoon and evening. Everything is the taste of water and stale bread, my friends are shadows and my love drives me to the precipice. My blood is the poison that is consuming my skin and the mind is silent. It's all going so slow that I'm suffocating with a rope that still saves me. 

And I want to let go, abandon. 

I want a silence that lasts for hours and days, close my eyes and be able to breathe for three minutes. I want to believe that the end is not the goal and that there is something to fulfill. But I am running out, left feeling hollow and simple, without a reason to keep trying and doing.

T.A.