I did not know if she’d be alive,
The next time I would speak to her,
Yet all I did was laugh.
Because of my sickened mind.

“Why are you laughing?” they ask.
I don’t know. I just am.
I don’t feel much emotion.
I feel fear, anxiety, anger, and every once in awhile,
I taste a bit of what I used to call happiness.
But that’s not too common anymore.

O neverending shadowed abyss,
O gloomy depth of nothing,
What do you want from me?
Do you plan to shred me,
From my last chance of hope?
Or do you believe, as I do, that it’s already forever gone?
O darkened soul,
Sadly, I believe you are right.