Have you ever longed for a breath of life so much  it bites through your skin?
Ever looked into someone else's eyes and seen the recognition of your struggle?
I've searched long and hard for a friendly face and eyes that listen to exactly how my face contorts when I say: "please don't go"

I can never express the embarrassing guilt for my need for someone to listen.
It shames me beyond all recognition.
My self image finds itself helplessly trampled by self doubt and indecision,
drowning unconscious face down in a ***** puddle on the corner of an oily intersection in my mind.
Reserved for the worst in me. Sometimes that puddle is a warm comfortable pool of hate saved for the last drop of hope I have left.