What has been given

It was this love that was given

This holy blood pouring out on a tree

This pain to give forth life.

These copious tears at loss that can never be fathomed never understood.

But not for this.

Not for each eating alone in silent rooms

With our hearts dying in hypothermic desperation

And our lives devoid of purpose or reasons

Unconnected, unrelated, unnoticed because of a thousand distractions

But I am here and I am here but you do not see me

Cannot know me fear the desperation you sense somehow

Yet assume is just a misunderstanding when in fact I was crying

When in fact I was dying

I was drowning inside.