Gone

It's not the suffering nor the pain; It's the loneliness within… It is what makes getting up from your bed hard, It is what makes you feel so tired. It's the fact that you feel alone, Alone through all of this…no companion. The feeling that you carry the world in your shoulders, The feeling that everyone seems to be doing well yet you're there wishing you were bolder. Hoping that you were stronger; dreaming that everything would be better. So you continue to seek comfort, searching for something to hang on. For someone and somewhere to make you feel you're not alone and that you have a place to belong. Someone or something to make you forget the weight on your shoulders. Yet nothing could fill the void inside instead it continue to get wider and deeper, Consuming every hope you try to create, now, every day seems darker.