They Say

A Poem by A.

So long ago, when I was small
I had so much to live for
Now it's gone with the years,
Gone with the wind,
Never to come back again.
And sometimes I can't breathe.
Sometimes I want to rip the veins from my arm.
A great potential,
Destroyed. Shattered. Broken.
Too sensitive, they say.
Too empathic, anyway.
I could scream for help.
Nobody would come.
I'm made of air,
I don't exist anymore,
Too crazy, they say,
Too strange, anyway.
I need a drug to fall asleep
I need a drug to wake up,
I need a drug to get thin,
I need a drug to breathe.
Ah, addicted, they say.
Oh, it's just in your head anyway.