Here
I am once again. Feeling alone, tired, and sad. I sit here
writing
Iceman
because of the things that are trapped inside. The things I feel,
know,
and
see. Of all the emotions I can go through in one day, love is the
greatest.
It can make the darkest hour in your life seem bright. It can
make you,
and
destroy you all in a moment of time. Sometimes what I can feel
can not be
described. And the funny thing is, it is not always the love for
someone. It can be for anything. Oh but to open up to another person.
To let
them in to
see the real you. To let them know what you think
and feel.
Nothing is better than that. A feeling I have not had in a long
time. Every day not
being able
to share seems like forever. Ah the
wanting to be romantic. Just
to get a
kiss and feel the love in it.
Feeling the touch of someone that
cares. No
other feeling can
compare.
Some may say that I am soft and a
hopeless
romantic. But I do not care. For if that is what it takes to have
these
feelings, then I do not mind. But it has been so long. Too long.
I am starting
to feel lost. The pain of love not given in me, can be a long
nightmare which
seems to have no end. It is like being in hell, No it is hell. I
have so much
to give. But most days the incredible crushing grip of depression
grabs me.
It is like being smothered. These are the days it hurts the worst
of all. The
days I need the understanding and the love. Every time I am like
that, I
want to die. I feel I must die. For I feel like I am a man in a
world, A world of people with blank faces. I am the John Doe of society.
No one knows
me, who I am, and what I feel. I have been taken advantage of and
left for
dead. I know I am not the only one. Others feel the same. For in
some manners
I am never alone. But I am. Alone and cold. As the fire dies in
me I wonder
if I can or will live again. If I can be seen, the real me, I
will. I always
hope that one of the blank stares that passes me on the street
will see and
believe in love again. For it is in me. Here I sit, and all I can
do is
