i am surrounded by,
drowning in
                   things.

the people are absent,
there is no warmth,
                      no love.

the frigid and dank skeleton of a house
                                is what i call my home.
these words, the texts and scrawlings may give me
                        solace
                           momentarily,
but i feel ill and lost.
          hadn't i found happiness before?

My heart is sick of being in chains.