I

I touch nothing when I extend my hand; shadows have no substance, but they generate more attention in this life than I. I‘m seen, but I am really no notice, I make sounds but I am not heard. Therefore, I take refuge in the inner most dungeons of my mind. There I can seek sanctuary from this reality that ignores and tortures me with slow agonizing pain. I want things I cannot have, and need things I will never get. Surrounding myself with possibilities, so I have excuses for my failures. The emptiness that centers my existence widens with each passing day. Memories are just picture-less photo albums and my now has become lost episodes. I make wishes each time I leave home, wishing that in this day I would find a pleasant moment. However, in that search I get lost and cannot find my way, I end up starring into space for a star to wish upon to get home. I ask God, “why am I me?” Only believing so I can have somewhere to place blames, for my actions, what I will become. I do not want to live like this, but every door I pass through reading exit on both sides it seems I cannot leave the situations I find myself entwined. I cannot see why it is so hard for me to find happiness, and Love! When will this become a maybe? All I have are the thoughts and this vision in my dreams of me and someone in a romantic embrace. Time does not seem to wait for me, so all I have to look forward to, are the echoes in my bedroom of past intimate encounters.////