Transparent

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Tight chest, hands cold as ice

Thoughts scurrying through her mind

Home to a family of schizophrenic mice

"It can't be getting bad again" she thought

Jolting upright, sheets stuck to her pale skeleton

Hair matted to her freckled neck

Blood boiling from within

"You're just stressed" she thought

Legs over the bed, still tripping through last nights rabbit hole

Combing through a landmine labyrinth 

Of discarded clothing and old woes

"You're just tired" she thought

Lights flicker to show a ghost in the mirror, 

Transparent, translucent, transpicuous 

Deep, blank eyes stare into the reflection

"Wait, who are you?" she choked

Empty SnakPaks scatter the floors, dishes piled like Mile High City

Expired milk in the refrigerator door, trash bags cluttered

Reluctantly settling on yesterdays lukewarm Pepsi

"It's getting bad again" she whispered

Sinking back into the blacked out abyss

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, and weeks 

Passing, sinking, drowning

Waiting for a day pass from Hell

"Can anybody see it's getting bad again" she wondered

Isolation mode, detachment 

"I haven't seen you in months! Let's get together soon!"

"I'd love to! Are you able to hang out tonight?"

"Sorry- Have other plans!"

Airplane mode, distance

"Why can't anyone hear me?" she cried

Google searches, Reddit threads

Tumblr forums, Hotline lines

"I want you to have my Freddie Freeman baseball,

it's signed."

An empty orange bottle, an old raggedy construction shirt

A letter from me, short and sweet

"Maybe they can hear me now" she mumbled as she saw his face

Taking my hand, leading me Home, he whispered

"I've always heard you"



















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