Blank Stares

Blank stares. 
Nothing. 
Growling. 
Blank stares which seem endless. 
Just comfortable enough. 
Then prodding feelings. 
It’s not good.
This town. 
Is just a blank note. 
There are many types of depression. 
The “I’m not real” type. 
This town isn’t real. 
Along with me. 
Vanishing. 
What type do I have…
…Whoosh….
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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