Broken Human.

My voice echoes off these white walls. I feel so alone. Actually, I think I feel nothing at all. The sun is starting to set. Damn, the sun is leaving me too? What can save my shattered soul? What else can I do? So, I buy a six pack and drink my problems away. Why do you have to go to a country so far away? "I am okay." That's what my lips speak, but that's what I've trained myself to say. I am a hollow man living inside hollow bones. I am a lonely man who is all alone. Maybe I just need some antidepressants and one of those blueberry scones. Maybe I just need some Taco Bell and another Ed Sheeran song. It is only right if I reconstruct my own self. I get the crazy glue any try to reconnect bone to bone. Damn, I knew I should of payed attention in health class. Someone hand me a health book about the skeletal system ... Oh yeah, I am all alone. I put in my earphones, eat my tacos, and listen to my fave Ed Sheeran song. I work away.

This poem is about: 
Me

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