An Education

Dead inside, I am
- but I haven’t been killed.
Dead inside, I am.
-       and no one bothered to burry me.

And it is not exactly as if I actually died,
But more as if I herein am forced to live – or better, to exist – with Death within.
Dead inside, I am.
And a part of me was not amputated, but merely shut down to a subordinate and necrotic numb existence, spreading Death to everything that is around.

Let it be? Easier said than done, I am afraid…
For I’ve been to Paris
(and that goes for being extremely, intensely alive)
And in the dark I lie missing colours, for I wasn’t born blind…

And men in my life – well, in truth simply boys – keep suffocating me with doubts and passions and fears and complications that, quite frankly, I couldn’t care less for
When, reality stated, the only men I Loved – (pause) – he no longer is.

Dead inside, I am
… but I can’t see a way to get back to life.
Maybe, just maybe it is meant to be so. Exist dead without living or dying.

And, unfortunately, I did not go – for I am not Jenny
Nor was I good enough to stick to plan A
(and in this secondary type of crawling, day by day, I sadly am).

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