You operate in the interstitial space

Seeing every wrinkle on your face

And then you notice the quicksand

And the chains and the locks

Has it always been like this?

Sometimes it’s too quiet

And you wonder where everyone is at

What does their happiness look like?

Do they lay awake at night and wonder why?

They seem to have it figured out, without a doubt

Grinning all the way to the grave with a long list of accomplishments

But here you are and it doesn’t seem so bad

But joy is a myth like Icarus

And you crash into the depths of melancholy

The only place that feels normal

Now what?

Onto the next distraction

And then and then and then and then

Awaiting for the end or the beginning Is there a difference?

Is there a reprieve?

Tell me your lies and I’ll tell you mine

Everything is gravy, all is fine

Tell me your hopes and I’ll share mine

But you rack your brain waiting for a sign

If this is it then what is the point?

You thought others were selfish, how could they leave

When so many loved them?

How can you feel lonely with so many friends

Yet you are not here and nobody has noticed

The ghost is free to come and go If you end it, you’ll surely know

Yet all the love in the world won’t change

A heart that only lives in the inbetween