It seems that,
rather than hiding from it,
I have learned to
hold hands
with the darkness.
A cold grip,
but no colder
than my own.

I’m
just
banging
against
the
glass,
trapped
in
a
fishbowl
full
of
*****
water.

I never thought that
I’d be cursed
With such a darkness
that I feel now

The sun was always shining
in my child’s mind
but the darkness forced it out
slowly and painfully

So now I am stuck with
this darkest disease, unable
to find peace, unable to control
the monster sitting under my skin

I fear that it will eventually
destroy everything I am
before I can even
catch a final breath of air

This loneliness
is a painful hollow
in my chest -
There are people who
want to fill it,
but cannot.
So I sit
in this empty pit
and try not to cry.
I don’t know
if I can ever feel
right
again.

Why am I always abandoned,
why am I always alone?
Why am I always left to wander
down this dismal road
s o l i t a r y
With no one to turn to,
no one to cry on,
no one to tell  me that
they care;
Why am I always shoved right back
into this nightmare
right when I think I might be okay?

Why do I suffer this curse, this
disease
of solitude and fear?

I've been fine,
cheerful,
for the past few days,

but now the sickness creeps back in,
my heart grows heavy,
my veins fill with sludge.

My eyes are constantly brimming with tears,
and no one is here
with a shoulder to catch them.

I'll admit,
I hunger for attention -
but I avoid the spotlight for fear of
embarrassment.
I crave acknowledgment,
a mild fame,
but then I shy away.

No one ever notices.