Sitting here staring out the window
There is a life
Somewhere out there
I can see it
I can smell it
But I can’t touch it
I long to be loved
The way I deserve to be loved
I long for passion
The way passion was meant to be
I long for touch
The way touch should feel
So many hearts so far away
I am surrounded by flying ghosts
I greet them
I talk to them
I tell them my dreams and wishes
They make me false promises
They tell me there is freedom in death
But aren’t they stuck just like I am?
They are right here
Lonely and eager to touch
They are also desperately looking for hearts
They cannot fly away
Like a bird or butterfly
Like I long to be
But they still do get to fly
If nothing else they can do that
At least they get to fly so high!
So are there friends in death?
Are there hearts to seek?
My demon is no more
It is I that have become the demon
I hurt and I break
And I wonder about the reason
My body feels out of place
Like there is a cancer growing inside of me
Could that be the reason for all of this?
My body, the one last thing I want to trust
Is letting me down?
My mind I lost long ago
My trust I lost at age 11
My love I have never felt
My heart is but a piece of flesh that beats
My spirit might have given up the fight
My God is weeping because He cannot reach me
And yet I breathe