Withdrawl

I feel ill

I can’t reach

you,

any of you

There are bodies all around,

but I can’t grasp any bone

Can you hear me?

Can any of you hear me?

My lips are screaming--

My throat is scorching--

Nobody is looking,

somebody strain to my ghost

I am slipping,

Disappearing,

Standing in air;

I am an exile

in my own world.