Wreckage.

Sorrow by mrcool256

I've gotten so used to being an absolute wreck that it has become normal.  I smile through my pain, I joke and I laugh, I converse... people think nothing of it.  They think nothing of me in my shell.

Little does anyone know how I mourn.

I'm sick of mourning.  Even in my happiest of times there is a timeless touch of sorrow in my soul.  It aches within me and blows in the wind, tears just beneath the surface smile at the dark clouds when they reflect my heart.  The whisper of the leaves wave at me, they grieve with me knowing they are seasonal with a brief life to live before they shrivel - like they are solemnly sorry I can't rest with them; their lives so substantially briefer than ours.  I'm tired of aching, I'm tired of the anxiety, I'm tired.  I'm just so tired.  Will it ever go away?  Helping others helps me, but I feel trapped without respite of this anguish in my heart.  I am helpless, to myself as well as to others.  

I want my family back. I want my siblings and my parents, the comfort that they offer me.