To Death with Caring

These actions
These thoughts
aren't mine.

I have been starved out of contact
with the mice in the meadow.
My hunger for peace
is ravenous.
I ask how and why,
but the only answer I get is
The cawing of a lone bird
Or the howl of a silver wolf.

A wall is around me
and I live in solitude.
This place is terrifying,
but is the only home I've known.

I flail out of control
and let the night take over,
for I am only a child
in the eyes of the moon.



I fear I'm getting worse.
these poems are supposed to help,
but I really just don't know.
God, I hope I don't feel like this forever.
I just want to see the ocean
or visit the desert.
I need some idea of happiness
but for now, it's Deep Underground.