I haven’t sat down to look at the sky in a very long time. It reminded me tonight that I am alive. But I don’t remember what *alive* feels like. Do you?
I look up and think about how I could climb up a tall roof and take one step... maybe I wouldn’t fall. Maybe I could join the birds. Who knows, right? I don’t feel human most days. And by that I mean I feel neglected, alone, isolated, ignored, betrayed, abandoned, left for dead... emotional and mental turmoil consume me.
You won’t understand what feeling like a person is like if you’ve always been alive. I haven’t written about my misery in a poetic way in a while. I haven’t had the passion for it in so long. Sometimes it makes me feel like I should write my suicide notes again. Maybe I can write something beautiful to leave behind... just some thoughts.
I look up and think about how I could climb up a tall roof and take one step... maybe I wouldn’t fall. Maybe I could join the birds. Who knows, right? I don’t feel human most days. And by that I mean I feel neglected, alone, isolated, ignored, betrayed, abandoned, left for dead... emotional and mental turmoil consume me.
You won’t understand what feeling like a person is like if you’ve always been alive. I haven’t written about my misery in a poetic way in a while. I haven’t had the passion for it in so long. Sometimes it makes me feel like I should write my suicide notes again. Maybe I can write something beautiful to leave behind... just some thoughts.
