The wind blows outside my house, seemingly nothing to much that's going about
No voice, no thunder, no rain, no snow, just the lonely sence of the wind that I hear right now
Sitting alone in a room, my room.
Hearing my mother and stepdad downstairs, blinded as though thoughts are meaningless
Lying on the bed, comfy yet so cold and lonely
I lie there in disbelief of my own predicament that I foreshadowed long ago
The walls are bland, the carpet is bland, nothing seemed so bad
Yet I lie here with such oppression, such vast anger that no friend could ever see
But what friend? What is a friend? I cannot even say.
It seemed so long ago
I used to laugh, I used to hug, I used to be so gleeful of my world, weither nativity or pure happiness, I cannot possibly tell
What I shall tell is this, I have no one
Isolation is my best friend
My mother comes to checkup on me, like she always does every night.
I always respond with every two word
I'm okay...
But am I okay? I know the truth, but yet the woman from my door seems not
Tomorrow for school I shall have an assessment for English, a day I will dread
All of us told to revise for it,
I tried, oh I tried so hard
I frantically looked at the pages for what to write, what idea I must have, yet my mind went blank and I was lost in my fright
Why can I not preform for what I know I must do? Is it me? Is it my brain or is it us both?
Has this surprised my very soul?
Ha! No....
My mind has been racing with thoughts for years no, no rest or hope for peace in sight
I lie here dreading my future, not just for tommorow but for my life in whole
I looked forward to my end, where I can finally rest
Weither by choice or by something else
But for now I wait, confused, in angust and frustration
I walk all alone
My best friend is isolation
