No one will ever know the extent of all this pain I have bottled up inside. A love once thought of as lost ... torn from my grasp as tragedy ripped the heart from the chest of the concerned and worried. The few people who sympathize and say they can relate are the world’s best liars ... when their attention is diverted from you and your problems, any trace of sympathy is impossible if detectable at all.
Many nights I lie awake, my dying heart crying out for that one person. The person who will dry my tears with unrestrainable devotions of love shouted at a volume that shatters the night sky. The one who has a cloud-like touch that will never scar as do the talons that hold me to this overbearing pattern that I consider to be a life. It’s obvious, in the real world; no one cares about anyone else. I know I’m alone and I’m learning to cope.
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