Down

I feel beaten. Worn. Exhausted.

I want a new drug. I want a new spark.

I hate this feeling of loneliness. I want that person, the one I dream of, to hold me, to love me. To comfort me and understand me. To listen to me.

Instead I'm trapped, alone. Trying to survive. I want to get away. I want something new. I want out because I don't know how to find my way in.

The one that I have has lost interest. The one I used to know is a fading memory. She doesn't visit like she used to. I miss her. There is another, but she remains an enigma. She's infected me. Sometimes she's a curse, sometimes she's the morning breeze.

I feel beaten. Confused. Worn.