I was/am feeling depressed...too many people leaving...


Will I ever see them again? 
Can we talk?
Will staying in touch be enough?

I need to see them again, but they are gone.
They left...said they would come they're not.
Across the sea, so far away. 

I wait. No response. Too busy.
Iron bands around my lungs.
Squeezing, squeezing, ever tighter.

Why do they all have to leave?
Why do they all disappear from my life?
They're gone now.

Just leave them be.
Move on they tell me.
I'm not ready yet. I still need them.

'Come out of there' they order. 
I'm not ready yet.
If I do it will only get worse.

Do you know the feeling,
Of losing someone.
They're going

Something inside just rips apart.
It get's worse every time.

What about next time?
I know it's coming.

Will I make it?
I don't know.

How will I do it?
I don't know.

Is it even possible?
I sure hope so. 





The End

1 comment about this poem Feed