Yeah, Right. “I’m Not Alone.”

So weird,
Writing this piece during my recovery.
Because,
I’ve lived a life rife with mistakes I’m trying to right before I’m dead,
In a grave,
With no chance to rebuttal each critic of my existence.
And,
I can’t use a voice I’ve seemed to have burned out by belching complaint after complaint from the top of my lungs.
All over anger and other emotions I’ve feared to confront because of,
Restlessness of handling everything alone…

You know,
A lot of people say,
“Hey!
Yes,
You are loved,
Not alone,”
But,
As time flows by,
With every second ticking so slow I,
Can’t help but keep thinking it’s a plain ole’ lie…