YOU, YOURS.

Art work by Michael Peter.

Your mind, a wide bedspread of emptiness.

Your soul a whirlwind of emotions.

Your heart gripped out of your chest; desires and goals tricking you while you succumb slowly.

You have no one but yourself.

To hug, to love.

Ripples of pain tearing you down totally.

You do not love it, but you have come to accept it.

You pray to God, as often as you can, your trust broken, your heart wounded with hurt.

You want him, so much, and yet you fear that he will reject you.

So you turn to loneliness, their warm embrace so quiet, their jealousy not permitting you to freely mourn with those who bear the titles "family and friends."

You do not have a heart, you have a heart.

This pain dwelling within, how could it dwell if you are as empty as you feel?

Your body, a tsunami covered with depression.

Tears, you try to find comfort in them as they run unrestrained down your face.

But you don't, you can't and yet you continue to hope that you will.

A tornado called numbness has conquered your body.

Your nose suffocated with sadness.

So what will you do? What can you do?

You try, try to get help. Try to open up.

Reach out, take deep breaths, feel. Because you have to believe that you will, with time, heal.

And as much as you can, try not to conceal, the ills, that your heart feels. It not as easy as it seems

While you anticipate that it will heal, and soon you'll see, that your body and soul is free.

Free to grief as you embrace the better days, healing and growing.

Because you are not alone. Never was, never will.

By Davidfnycountry Austine Ogbadu.