Every word spent,
Lingers unto my throat:
Speaking of happiness,
Crying of joy.

But at sun dawn,
Dark clouds start
To suffocate me. .

Like a big part was
o v e r    s h a d o w e d
. . .

Somewhere between
. . . C o n v e r s a t i o n s . . .

Somewhere beyond
. . . C o m p r e h e n s i o n . . .

There are times,
I seek to be alone.
And I
Will always
Hate
That part
Of
Me.

That part,
**F e e l i n g   l o s t .