Allmost in Sight

Where do my tears come from?
Is it hormones (those little bastards) or the boy nextdoor, who called me fat?
I don't believe it's either.

This is where they come from:
To be alone on a busstop in the middle of unknown countryside and not know how to get home.
I miss my mom, I want a hug.
I miss so much that my arms ache with the need to touch.
And the sun, that old enemy, shines in the cloudless sky so brightly that I can find no shelter. No comfort.

What do you want from me?
I don't feel love, not even a glimpse of warmth.
My lips speak, but everything feels empty.
My insides are full of emptyness.
An empty echo that doesn't know how to miss.
That doesn't want anything more.

My pains just bounce undecidedly back and forth and bump into each other.
My fears take over and start to rule the desert as if it was a kingdom.

Where did you go? You, who were supposed to rule?
When did my king escape?
I did not notice a revolution.
Have you left, even if I have been on my knees begging for you to stay?
Have you left me alone to listen to these echos that have nothing to do with the truth anymore?

Has silence come so I would finally listen?

I am afraid.

You must embrace your pain. Does that go for fear as well?
I want to own it, as my pain is my pain.

But I insist that you come back.
Without you there will be no order in this chaos.
Only your words hold life in them.

I want to dare to need.
Dare to ask for help and support.

Give me beautiful words!

Even if they were empty, as long as they trickle down my back like milk.
I need it. Send your people to talk to me.

Talk to me about love.
______________________

PS. This is something I wrote over 2 years ago. I recently re-read it and felt like sharing: it's amazing how much can happen in two years!