There is nothing worse than the feeling of hopelessness—  

It eats you alive, chip by chip, piece by piece

Until the light flickers out  

Leaving only darkness.  

 

A vast, devouring void

Swallowing thoughts, feelings, memories

Until nothing remains but numbness.  

Silence settles in.  

And then—death.  

 

I've been dead for as long as I can remember.  

 

"It's going to be alright,"they say.  

But they don't drown like I do.  

They don't choke like I do.  

They don't walk carefully,  

Talk cautiously,  

Wish desperately—like I do.  

 

"Put in a little effort," even my silk pillow whispers.