The feeling of my wasted lifetime flies by like the gusts of wind blowing away grains of sand in the early summer.
The feeling of trying to grab onto that warm delight that feels like home is something that slips through my fingers.
To reach an unachievable feeling of pride and bliss is a luxury I fear isn’t possible.
I fear in a world full of oxygen I find myself gasping for air,
In a world where nothing slows down, I find myself stuck in place.
Being drowned by my thoughts and emotions, I stick my hand above the water waiting for someone to pull me out.
I am losing the light I once saw, The light that was my warmth, my home.
I see nothing but the darkness my mother had warned me about in this world, to go back in time when there was still color in my world is something I fear I don’t remember.
All I am is an empty shell they call a human. Nothing inside, nothing but a void that can’t be filled.
The difference between living and being alive is living as a goal, a purpose, I’m simply nothing.
Is the goal of life to live it or die without a trace of you left in the world?
In my void of darkness, I see a flash of light, and so desperate to find it, I find myself running and running towards an end that doesn’t exist for me.
I search for a way out of my dark void, and I see a bright golden man saying he can give me back the color in my gray, lifeless world.
I blindly gave him my hand.
He took every last bit of myself I had left. I truly have nothing now.  
For I am not living nor alive.