If we'd lived like normal people-
All of this could have been avoided.
But we didn't.
We were nuts and desperate.
We couldn't help but create this
nothingness that drove us completely crazy,
sad,
empty.
Still, no one's desperation came close
to matching mine.
They all seemed to be able to go back to their lives.
They got scuffed up and they got on with it,
Only I seemed to be left behind,
crying and screaming,
wanting some satisfaction,
wanting to feel something.
I always sought solace in places
where I know, absolutely,
that it did not exist.
Is this what insanity feels like?