All my life I have just existed. I haven’t learned to live yet. I spend my days doing the mundane tasks required of me by society. At night I feel alive only in my dreams. My pillow remains wet in the morning from the tears of loneliness I let slip the night before. It’s unbelievable how my sadness is hidden to the world. It’s not visible and for someone who prides them self on never faking anything, my daily smile is a lie begging to be uncovered. Can you hear my soul crying out for attention? Does my loneliness speak to you?

I’ve already been through the stages of acceptance for this soul eating depression within me. Twelve steps wouldn’t take me any higher on the stairway to my goal. 

I won’t give up;

I’m beginning to think there is no current answer to my problems. Just a rocky terrain ahead of me that will smooth over with time. Times all I have and I’ve wasted most of it. Maybe a flight to a smoother portion of this path is in order. Or perhaps my happiness is secretly tucked away in a file that I no longer, if ever, have access to. 

For no I lay in peace, ripping the fringe of my skirt and accepting the truth. Happiness lies deep within me and I can’t depend on you to bring it out. This is a job for me.


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