There are times when the voices
Get so loud I whimper to
Relieve some of the pressure.
An agonizing procession of
Discomforts leaves its unwelcome
Footprints on my narrative.
Thirty minutes away but
Unfathomably remote.
A vividly painful memory,
Times spent anxiously vying for
Approval, a pathetic dance for a
Morsel of affirmation.
Insatiable craving for attention
Heightened by ruthless
Absence of empathy.
In the distance all things
Recede as if they had
Never existed.
Nothing much going on,
Like every other day.
She remembers when life
Felt full of promise,
When she would wake up
And things mattered,
The excitement of
What was to come,
The joy in even the
Smallest occurrences,
Barely a memory now,
Replaced by a void.
