I’m not alive. I live for you. For my kids. For my mother. For the few that would be devastated by my demise. Not for myself. I’ve long given up my own life. I smile, I pretend, and I keep going just to keep the thread together.
None of you see. We are all guilty of own selfish thinking. How many times have I hinted at my miserable existence? How many times have I cried out to have you say something in passing and not give me a second glance? Are you frozen in your state? Do you not hear me or do you even care?
Knocking on the door of death
Melancholy
DM 1/14/15