The stillness and confusion

Crossing passages of conversation

Is sometimes like crossing the Sahara

All dry---there is no air to breathe.

What is love?

What is friendship?

Why do I go to such great lengths

To communicate and my words are lost

I am lost the roar of commerce and the cars driving by.

I am like a painting standing still

A still life of myself

I cannot move forward because I’m not real

The gift of life is sometimes lost on me.

I want to be this positive energy

That goes out into the world and

Makes a difference.

But how can I make a difference

When all I hear is noise inside my head?

How can I be with someone?

I don’t even know myself well enough.

There is a saying that a picture says

A thousand words.

At this point I need a picture

Because words are lost within me

I miss those that are lost; those that are gone

I try to pinpoint my moods and they are too flighty.

A great chasm appears sometimes between myself and others.

I want to hide, to bury myself under the covers until the coast is clear

There is nothing that can be done when I am in this state.

Not friends or family can pull me from this rabbit hole.

I am deep within it----picking up pennies for luck

Hoping against hope they work.

The mind is a maze

Being social is impossible

I am sad; frozen in deep down feelings

Of inadequacy and time that has passed.

I feel I have contributed nothing

My mind is blank with recollections

Of times I actually became who I really wanted to be.

The desert lies before me

The darkness lies within me

I am an empty vessel waiting to be filled.

I thought once I could fill it

But now I am not so sure.                                           Heather Rose