In the corner of the dark room,
I lay there.
Writhing in emotional pain,
I am paralyzed.
I feel like night has taken over
all of my light.
Is there any good left?
                                                           ­   
                                                             ­      Am I even alive?

The pills...
They tell you they work.
That they will make you better.
And I suppose uncomfortably numb
is better than the agony.

But I can't live this way.
Not when I know how I use to be

Bright.
          Shiny.
                  Young.
           ­                 Cheerful.

A loving soul turned

Dark.
        Lonely.
                   Broken.
                              Lethargic.