I want to be,
somebody else.
Other times
I want to be
Any Body Else.
Because the road
is too damn long.
Feels like it’s so dark
the sun looks like a spark.
It’s so hard,
when I fall,
to get back up pretending
nothing’s wrong at all.
You used to call me
on my stuff.
You made me realize
that okay is not good enough.
Now you’re gone,
packed your metaphorical bags,
and moved right along.
What about me?
You left me here.
Wasn’t it you who said,
I would always have your ear?
Now no one sees me,
they tell me I’ll be fine.
If I hear one more cliché on healing
I may lose my fragile mind.
All I want to know now,
when will the hurting end.
I miss you so very much
My love, my life, my friend.

M. Zane McClellan

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