My so cold life

my pen is dry
my ink is solid
words are escaping me
blocked sensations
tormented by the lack of a sweet taste
an underabundance of simple inspiration that can be converted to letters in my hand.
The presence of some other light tastes mask sweetness
pigments, fluorescence, phosphorescence, luminescence,
gentle anesthesia moving swiftly before my eyes
my eyes, my eyes, my eyes shut.
Beyond ordinary forgetfulness,im unable to recall my memories
damaged by time and covered by its dust
encountered in opposite latitudes at one and the same instant of time
Nesh in body and mind.
And honestly im exhausted.
But on the surface, pretending to shudder with warmth
trying my best to give a better appearance ,through artificial means
Acting ! Acting ! Acting ! all the time.
manipulating fraudulently my feelings and gestures
to be avoiding questions and keeping away from those who claim to care
or just because i dont have answers
never did, to anything.
Painful truth or normal fact ?
lost in every me in me
mislayed my body somewhere
discarding senses of flesh
eliminating any and every chain with the world
disjointing the knots of my soul
and going under
falling in an endless large deep hole and keep falling.
completely devoid of content.
The climax of the heat of water felt coldon my body...
Finding its way far down into my bared skin..
till the bottom of my profound enigmatical existence
so I layed low and wept.
My tears are crystallized
my eyes are are tow pearls of lusters
and i am cold
and i know you're not here.
not here.