Searching, seeking, there is no comfort, just qualms within my soul.
My mind just like a tornado, is twisting, turning, throwing my thoughts, all around.
My bones ache for something more, which I cannot attain, or achieve or buy from a black market to finally ease the pain.
The door I should have opened is closed, locked without a key.
The sanity behind that door, it no longer belongs to me.
My past stained, unrecognizable to see, the future bleak and foggy, unreachable to me.
I'm only here this moment, not knowing where to be, but I could only wonder, what could, or should, or might have been, if I had kept my key.
--Pamela P., 50
