Stranded.

All alone.

This is what I always asked for.

This is what I am used to.

Where is everyone that said to call if I need them?

Where am I?

None of this looks familiar.

There is static where my thoughts used to be.

Only ringing where sound used to be.

I'm so tired.

Nobody knows me.

I would cry but my ducts are drier than they should be.

Stranded.

All alone.

In a place that is unknown.

Lights

Music

People

No one can see me.

Life I'd happening.

Everywhere is so busy.

Thoughts that race within me.

The long days.

The nights a weight.

The weeks...

In disbelief.

The months an array of dismay.

Behind a glass

A mannequin on display.

Plastic

Simple

It's fake.

No reason to act.

What can I say?

Perfectly

Made

Imperfection

 

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