Expressing myself.

That’s the one thing I’ve never done well

I want to scream at the top of my lungs, but I lost my voice

I want to write everything that’s happened to me, but my hands don’t seem to work

I want to bleed, but my blood seems dry

I want to cry, but my tears are like dust

I want to love, but my heart doesn’t seem to beat

I want to see life, but I’ve gone blind

I want to be alive

But how can I when I feel nothing?

You were the one thing that made me breathe

You made me see

You made me cry

You made me scream

You made me smile

You made me feel alive

But you also made me bleed

So far away from what I once had

So far away from life

So far away from you

I feel down

I feel broken

I feel empty

I feel used

I feel discarded

What separates me from the rats in the gutter?

The fact that the rats have a purpose

My life is a well worn rut

A lie, a facade

Who am I?

Where did I come from?

Where am I going?

Am I truly alone?

Will you care enough to save me?

Will you pick me up, hold me high, show me what I could really be?

Or

Will you walk by me, not seeing who I am, what we were?

Will you kick me while I’m down?

But maybe

I think

Of course

These are not the questions that matter

The question that does matter

Will I ever find answers?

The answer, you ask?

You make your own answers to the questions you ask.