Thin lines of blood crisscross the heart

Sometimes I wake up with all the pain of loss in my heart
My mind rushing to consciousness through a gauntlet of each person I’ve loved who have died or left or are so distant that any hope of us remains in the realm of dreams that never were

I wake in this tearing agony as if my dreams were filled with my loves and waking is the cutting blade ripping me open

I wake like this and go to work
Where people don’t know the wonderful people who I’ve carved myself up, open to
Where explaining even a tenth of what I feel would earn at best pity and most likely contempt

And as weary as I grow of this pain, those who care must read my torment and have nothing else to say. All the words have been said. All the sympathy given. And we are all left hollow and we are all stuck on the fringes of understanding. Each of us a world alone.

I stay away, awake as long as I can. The torment of staying away from sleep and the comforts of not thinking. Stay awake to keep from that moment of wake

Still, in dreams we are together. Different me’s, different you’s; watching their lives unfold
Happy that somewhere we are found
Until that moment when again, all is lost

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