I haven’t belonged to something for a long time. I’ve been of things-- but not really--do people wonder about me?

 Or do I fade as all traces of lighting fad as is thunders across the sky, gone in an instant…and forgotten.

But I’m still here, vibrating, giving off electricity--but invisible.

I now crave the recognition of a simple “hello” or “What are you doing?”

It’s a rush and feels so part of something that I breathe it in, feel it

and, now I long for it--like a drug’ for if I don’t they will drown me, overcome me

and pull me into, push me out into oblivion, alone, tarnished and broken--that I

cannot survive again.

The throbbing wound is still here…there, where?

It’s been ripped from one under false circumstances--numbed I am lost, lost…

The End

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