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Title: Untitled

It’s different when you care. When you’ve offered more than there was to give to something that meant more than life itself. It gives you purpose. Gave you purpose. And you found meaning in what has long sense gone and realize along with its absence is the loss of reason, which ceases to exist. And it doesn’t even hurt anymore. With it went your ability to feel, to care, to breathe. Racing thoughts come to a halt. An empty mind just as torturous as the pain you once believed could never get any worse. You hope for time and distance between it and each day. But time does nothing to fill the void. Nor does it stand beside you or align with you. It does nothing to protect or heal you. It just blurs and fades around you. And your prayers no longer ask for strength for one more day. Instead for courage for just one more step. For steady feet that let you walk away. To be the sword in mind and body necessary to win the battle. For the indifference to not care whether you lived or died. The madness of it all. The irony of the fall. And I’m not even tired anymore. Who needs rest when the future is behind you? When you’re invisible to even those who’ve defined you. When you’ve sat long enough to see sunsets rise again. When your worst fear becomes the reality that you may continue to rise again. And every song and show brings you to tears. Which makes no sense since you don’t even care. And mercy is no longer an option. Kneeling on the edge in that place where willows weep and provide lasting shade as I sleep. And how do I find the words when I’ve hardly enough air to stand. I’m on reserves. Holding on only long enough for help to arrive. Only I never asked for help and no one ever offers. Where do you turn when you’re the direction everyone else always runs in. How do I stand on feet that can no longer bear the burden of carrying the weight of the world. And I could have climbed out of this hole I’ve found myself in had I just enough left in me to care. But I don’t. And people say to move on and be strong, to let go. But it’s hard to move on when you’re constantly reminded of all the reasons your unhappy. I look through lenses that represent a parting gift I didn’t ask for. And take refuge in my decision to stand alone. But it’s not long before my escape becomes my penance. I am not so far gone to not recognize it was the solution to the problem that got me here.