Outside of me

I didn't realize how great the impact of loss could be

It'd always sting, like a bite or more, but a mystery

I was so selfish and self driven, I never could see

The losses we suffer, and don't endure are direct
Through the myriad causes of pain, one we feel

Because life goes on, we forget, lose all memory

Perhaps life is a dream, and we are not alive

We choose to see the life left before us, the moment

I'm covered in tears, awash, a sorrow without relent

If we choose to feel every life lost, it'd be a torment

I can't go on, this darkness continues in the torrents

Didn't get an invitation to this life, agony ferments
I wonder if this were a test, if I'd survive
As I wait to see the reality that exists outside of me
I know all I've been is alive, I am the weed
Persisting despite my emptiness
Dying while people care less

“I said nothing for a time, just ran my fingertips along

the edge of the human-shaped emptiness that had been

left inside me.”

― Haruki Murakami