I felt invisible the last time we were together. You
chatted aimlessly with your friends about the game and
the people and the classes you all despised.  I clenched
my teeth as I held back tears from the loneliness in a packed
gym and as loud as it was I swear all I heard were my own
thoughts.  We left and I acted only slightly disappointed in
the fact that I was never introduced and you apologized.  The
streams of water finally burst through as I closed my eyes in
the passenger seat of your beat-up truck and I blamed it on
the anxiety and it is true that I couldn’t help it.  No one ever can
control when they feel lonely and when they feel loved.  We
pulled into the restaurant parking lot and I apologized for
my uncontrollably erratic emotions and you kissed me.  Your
embrace and kind words reminded me that it was all okay.
That it was just a hiccup.  That I would always mean something to you.

And that was our last weekend together.

The elixir of freedom
disappears without a proper goodbye.
I am its puppet.
It pulls my strings
and I dance.

I converse without a care and
take in the sweet sights and sounds.
In this moment,
life is grandiose.

The world is beginning to spin
and focus becomes foreign.
I continue to dance,
but the strings become worn.

My mania enchants me
As I sit on the torn couch.
The chipped paint and flickering bulb
remind me of my reality.

My head slams and
I swear I could feel it bruise.
No one ever tells you
how badly it hurts to feel numb.

And as I fall to my knees
I dedicate this poem to the floor
who holds me when no one else will.