Another dull ache

In the everyday pain of life

Sometimes shattered

Sometimes only cracked

But, never whole

Never complete

Trying to gather all the pieces

Only for them to slip through

Ghostly fingers, can't seem to hold it together

This life feels like a punishment

When does it stop

This seemingly endless suffering

Like a glass bottle

Bobbing up and down

In a river of pain

Only a matter of time before it has it's fill

And sinks

She's almost full up

Full of anger
Full of resentment
Full of disgust

She wishes not for death, but to have never existed at all.

Where did I go?
Should I go with the flow?
Did I lose myself?
Is that me on the shelf?
Can you lend me a hand?
Or are you on your last stand?
Does using your senses disappear?
Or, maybe use your eyes or ears?
Could it be my worst fear?
Who have I become?
What says my cerebrum?
Can you answer that?
Am I falling flat?
What can we do?
Feeling  blue, are you, too?
Is this as awkward for you as it is me?
Don't you want to be free?
Why so many questions?
Why deny my affections?
I mean, how many can there be?
Don't you want to see?
Don't you want to just go home?
Or, do you wish to roam?
Is there enough time before dark?
Did you hear the dog bark?
You hear it, too?
Do you think it's just us few?
Thank goodness, but what now?
Do you smell something foul?
Ugh, is that something sticky?
Gross, better get out of here quickly!