Anomaly

I want to be real.

I want to exist.

I want my voice to have sound.

It feels like I’m lock inside a coffin … that I am already dead.

How come these things happen?

I want to fight against it…to reverse this entire situation, but I just let myself go…like there’s nothing else I could be doing to change it.

Of all the people I could be , this one is the worst. I am a phantom. An invisible corpse dancing to the sound of broken drums and rusty guitars…

I am the tragic tune playing on the funeral parade.

I want to breathe.

I want to scratch through the veil and to rise to the surface…

I want to fill this emptiness.
I finished three bottles of wine but I’m still empty…

I want to acknowledge my own purpose.

Who am I?

A lost cause? A drunken poet with nothing left but a lonely heart?

Am I my own alter ego ?  My schizophrenic self?

I’ve lost myself so many times that I cannot find a way out of this hole.

Is anybody out there?

I search for sounds of life, but all I find is the sound of my own steps back and forth inside these white walls.

I walk and walk in circles and I’m no closer that I was before…