Why can't they see I'm not ok,
that the words of courage and happiness
are lies,
just illusions of something that was - before,
that I can't sleep at night
or that I can't feel the euphoria anymore.

On some days they all seem unreal,
like I can go through them, like ghosts
or go out in traffic without feeling the hit
of the speeding car
so I always step away from the ledge
to not be encouraged.

Most of the time I do what I am told,
I smile and I laugh
while feeling left outside,
like I don't belong there in the warmth
where the freedom and love lives
in the familiar faces that have left me behind.

I fantasize of the past more than the future,
they say I'm negative and speak of "what ifs"
and that's true, I do,
but what else is there to do when you've
thrown life away and people have walked out
the door.

-

I did give up, I did run away
but I try not to anymore,
I whisper 'don't run' every morning, every night,
even if it hurts me, even if they have already
left me. I say: I'm here, I'm here.

-

Save me.