Living,
Breathing,
The air,
Stuck!
in my lungs.
Alive,
Living,
Feeling,
Love, Existence,
Pain.
What is living?
Is it observing the pain,
the love,
the hate that we feel?
Is it that we breathe,
see,
hear?
Or is it just the presence,
of it all?
If so,
Then what is this?
If so, is death just the absence of...
Everything?
What if you feel so little,
that it is like the absence of
feeling,
loving,
hating?
Would that be,
purgatory?
Absence...
Dull...
It is there.
It just disappears when
I\'m alone...
Will it ever stay again?
Will I ever feel,
Alive?