What Can't be Touched

The worst feeling,
Might be, to suddenly be alone.
When the routine is gone,
Destroyed- forgoten,
Grasping desperetly to touch,
Hands, touch, feeling, connect-
Feeling physicaly,
What the soul cannot find.
The world loses feeling,
Even to touch you,
To communicate in skin,
Can not fray down the nerves,
Fix the broken skin,
Take away the cold-
From where the warmth went mute,
Cannot dilute the isolation-
No matter how much,
I hug- pulling in another,
No matter how much,
I grab, or touch or poke or jab-
Nothing is there to feel,
And I'm the ghost,
Who can't touch-
And whom suddenly forgot routine.
Can't sit any longer,
Or stay silent once more,
My ears don't hear,
My eyes dont see,
All the colors that left...
Words won't come to me.
All the feelings that won't-
The warmth that can't,
Disapeared along with me.
In this world,
I am unplugged.
lefts to grasp for breath,
Learning how,
To connect back in,
Alone- again- again-
Am I the ghost,
Whom no one can see,
Or are they- the lost world,
Of that "once was me."