beats

I feel so sad and lonely on the inside. No one to physically talk to cause the world is in isolation. There are so many people around me that are saying hi but never ask how one is doing. I miss people so much and physical touch. I never knew you could miss something physical. My mom was always forcing me to be physical with her so I never got the drift. There is really only one person worth talking to and it’s the one person I'm not allowed to talk to, I’ve grown tired of everyone else. Not as active and it’s difficult to convince my body to get out of bed in the morning. I cry out of the blue. It is as if a wave of sorrow washes over me and bathes my heart in grief. I miss his smile and laugh and talks and everything that we did and said. There’s this emptiness in my heart; the crows have picked the insides out and happiness and hope. Only the shell, that questions every beat. Is it  worth it to beat again?, for if I do it will only mean more pain and grief and unknowing. The moments of the past are what I hold onto. It’s as if the hollowness of my heart represents something. Like once everything is normal again it will fill back up with life and not question it’s life. It will feel free, not trapped in a cage called the house. The hope that I hold onto for the time being, is that my heart will once again be held in his kind hands. None of my thoughts are in the present; all in past moments or future hopes. It would be so much easier if we could not feel nothing, because my heart beats pulsating pain through every oxygen molecule within my ragged body. I want it to stop but something stops me; holds me back. Feathers gently caressing my heart and warm sun above my head. A voice telling me it will be okay, and a taste that tells me to be patient. But if I believe what I see, I have seen nothing but quarantine; no end to this isolation and I can’t keep pretending everything's okay, it hasn’t been just a normal day, and I can’t tell him what I need to say.  ______. I don’t want to go down this hall, it’s too long and I don't have enough energy with this pain ball. I feel a bullet forged in my heart, causing blood to come rushing out and make a piece of sorrowful dark red art. With every beat remaining and every breath retaining I feel a sense of emptiness. All my moments come forth, ignoring the pattern of short and long term memory then to be forgotten. I  don’t remember what you said on the 5th of December 2014, if anything. Maybe I was too scared to talk because I don't want to anger my mom with having my own voice, not just being her puppet.  I've thought of running away so often. I am a master at being unheard. Nobody can hurt you with the words you don’t give them. If you don’t talk to anyone they can;t get to know you. They can’t use your words against you or hurt you. My weathervane vain isn't pointed anywhere. I am the planet uninhibited by emotions. I can feel no sympathy, pain, happiness or grief. I'm just a shell of a human. A carcass left to be picked at by vultures that have already cleaned me; picked away layers of my rotting flesh and only left the bone. I feel so much pain in my eyes from not sleeping, heart from grieving and arms from missing them. Every gust of strong wind brings hail from my eyes, it drops heavy in my heart like an icy boulder.