terça-feira, 31 de janeiro de 2017

about the angst

there is an angst in my heart. it is always there.
even when i’m happy. even when it doesn’t make sense.
sometimes i miss little parts of me.
little parts of what i can’t remember.
little parts of what i have burning in my brain.

this angst has a name.
but i don’t know its name. 
all i know is everything else.
and that i can’t ask it to go away.

i am afraid i’ll miss it.
i am afraid i won’t recognize myself without it.

i am afraid that, without it, there would be nothing left.

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