Many questions empty answers

I don’t know who I am

I’ve come to find that out here recently

I don’t know what love is so I have been told

I don’t know what the meaning of life is

But I live it every day to know that it’s not always happy

I apparently don’t know what being sad really is

I don’t know what depression is either I guess

I don’t know what is real or fake

For my mind is constantly warping and bending what happened

I don’t know if what people tell me is true

For everything seems to be a lie

I don’t know if strangers can see the many different people that follow me in an invisible haze

I’m unaware if individuals can hear the distorted whispers next to my ear

The whispers that keep me up at night

Whispers that scare me into thinking I’ve lost every strand of strength connected to reality

But those same whispers I sadly find comfort in

When I am sad laying in the darkness of my room, clock reading 1:07

Those whispers become clearer than the highway in my back yard

They make me feel happy

With the whispers that lay there with me talking to me

Sit silently when I reply back

Those invisible people that no one else can see make me twist in anger

I want them to see the beauty

I want them to feel the warm air that comes from their mouths when they whisper words to me

I want them to leave as well

I don’t know why I can see them

I don’t know why I can hear their sad sounds, their sad stories their empty questions

Why me a question that we’ve all asked ourselves

Why can’t I make peace with what was

I don’t know why I can’t let go

I don’t know why I can’t ask for help

I don’t know why you just can’t see that me being here isn’t good

I don’t know why

You just won’t leave and I want you too

All in one narrow section is hope that you stay