Yes, I am just trying to make it through the days.
The days are long and empty,
endless, echoing tunnels,
with no light to guide me home.
An inhuman concoction that calls itself the human condition,
there is no home to go to,
because I am alone,
watching my soul sleep outside of my body,
battling nightmares,
as the hours unfold,
in the same way as they have for so long.
Yes, I am just trying to make it through the days.
I watch the minutes mutate,
stretching, snug and smug in front of me,
and I wonder if I’ll ever reach out and feel the future, warm against my skin, ever again.
Last night,
I had a dream,
where I was crowded,
your touch,
your kiss,
your heart,
surrounding me,
and I awoke,
aching and aimless,
because I am just trying to make it through the days,
but the days are so long,
without you.
