How do you stomach this feeling?
I'm on the verge of tears, reeling,
Overcome with the stagnation of this year,
Yet I haven't shed a single drop-
Eyes bone dry,
With no sign they'll stop.

I speak 5 words a day,
Only courteous hailing,
Avoiding everyone I know,
I think I'm destined to be alone.
I could ***** with a slight push,
Sickened and cold.

Unsteady hands write words they barely know,
Vision blurring as I see the screen,
Feeling like a fraud with good opportunities.
I shouldn't be here,
But I've no where else to go-
And I never will,
Not until I've made my own,
Even family won't let a failure back home.