My World

       I was here once before, a long time ago, or maybe it wasn't me that was here at all, just a shadow of who I am. I just seem to remember this place, but then I think, in my sadness at the time, I could have been mistaken it could have been another darkened corner my existence found, another place to hide.  
 
I just remember this time in life which was black and unreservedly profound and I was nowhere. Yet I was somewhere, maybe not here or even there, maybe just suspended and pretending to share in other people’s conversation. I’d run away of course, in hope to lose the sad persona of me. I ran and I scattered my life in bits and pieces through the on-line world.  
 
I left disjointed threads of email and broken strings of chat. It was a place, where suddenly all my life and all that I was, seemed to unfurl; I was never really any good at it, the talking side of those things, but even without the skills something out there, or someone, kept me and my existence alive, thought I had something worth saying.  
 
As life touched tentatively on the surreal and the sublime, I was somehow sheltered there, locked inside of me. Strangers were the ones who cradled me then, strangers, people I didn't really know, they were the ones that softened the heartache of living and they were the ones that helped me find my self again.  
 
The saddest thing, I wasn't missed at all, my absence went unnoticed, I went unnoticed. I was to them, the ones who should have cared, nothing but a flimsy shadow that darkened the busy corners of their existence once in a while.  
 
I suppose, I waited just for one of them to ask where I’d been; of course they never did because the places I frequented were not the places any one of them would ever see. It was lonely place, a place they didn't want to enter or even hear about, a place they didn't want to be a part of, but then, that place that they avoided was my world.