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