Forsaken

I think I am home,

but perhaps not.

I live in two worlds,

one dark and one light.

Mostly, 

I reside in darkness,

where my mind encounters

the black terror that is worry.

And, I fight with myself

over if I should do this

or that.

I am the shade, creeping

into every corner of my mind.

But, the noise doesn’t stop

like the incessant roar of traffic.

It only wanes a little, and

leaves me when I sleep.

So, what of the light?

Every once in awhile

it washes over me like rain.

Then I guess I’m happy,

or supposed to be at least.

Yes, I can be cheerful, but

what’s the use?

I know sorrow

much better than joy.

I know every curve 

of pain’s face,

every nuance

of the forsaken heart.

Tell me I do not belong,

here in constant strife.

Danielle Shaeffer