I am a broken jar, built to hold only pain.
The cracks in me let joy seep away, so that only the viscous sadness remains.
Happiness visits like the flash of a camera,
but joy, what even is joy? Just something I scared away years ago.

Pain and sorrow are my companions.
I carry my grief like a twin conjoined at birth,
They are a part of me,
In every cell and bone, the ones who never left me.

The world was not made for me;
I fit nowhere,
At home only with heaviness that others left behind
people, happiness and every just pass through me.

My scars are not ornaments,
but a tapestry of pain only I seem to see
A collage of my pain, loneliness and sadness
the story of pain that will never let me go.

I do not belong.
Not here.
Not anywhere.

Technically alive but uprooted.

Im Alive but not living. Here but not present. Torn between yesterday and 6 feet under.