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Dear old friend,
I haven't written when I should have. There hasn't been energy and mostly I must admit, to my own shame, that I don't think it matters any more. Not many things do these recent months. Part of me used to recognize when I was in trouble. But it seems that section of my self-awareness is now vacant.
Its hard to explain. Put into words that make any sense to the sane.
Its like my body is walking down the hallway of an abandoned hospital that the world has forgotten. The other patients are gone. I am the ghost left behind. And its been so long I've forgotten how warmth feels. This world of mine...these barren dead hallways are just icy histories no one recorded.
Every day I ache.
I linger in some suspension where I dangle for the world's eyes to see. Naked. Scars showing. Just on display.
Only thing worse than being exposed is no one noticing.
Days pass without anything raising a care in my soul. Sometimes I wonder how I make it each night. How I step out of my bed and into a world that lacks any sort of compassion. This world cares nothing for anyone. And the people in it suffer the worse sense of apathy. Once I was worried about that.
Now I am just another mention. Another reflection in crowded elevators. Another particle without meaning.
Dear old friend, we cared so much for another once but even those memories can not save me when I'm searching for hope in the blackness. When I shiver in the endless cold night, there is no warmth.
How will this end?
Can you help me?
I haven't written when I should have. There hasn't been energy and mostly I must admit, to my own shame, that I don't think it matters any more. Not many things do these recent months. Part of me used to recognize when I was in trouble. But it seems that section of my self-awareness is now vacant.
Its hard to explain. Put into words that make any sense to the sane.
Its like my body is walking down the hallway of an abandoned hospital that the world has forgotten. The other patients are gone. I am the ghost left behind. And its been so long I've forgotten how warmth feels. This world of mine...these barren dead hallways are just icy histories no one recorded.
Every day I ache.
I linger in some suspension where I dangle for the world's eyes to see. Naked. Scars showing. Just on display.
Only thing worse than being exposed is no one noticing.
Days pass without anything raising a care in my soul. Sometimes I wonder how I make it each night. How I step out of my bed and into a world that lacks any sort of compassion. This world cares nothing for anyone. And the people in it suffer the worse sense of apathy. Once I was worried about that.
Now I am just another mention. Another reflection in crowded elevators. Another particle without meaning.
Dear old friend, we cared so much for another once but even those memories can not save me when I'm searching for hope in the blackness. When I shiver in the endless cold night, there is no warmth.
How will this end?
Can you help me?
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You are not alone. There are many here willing to listen and give comfort and feel as you do. Blessings