Haunting

Haunting is a poem exploring the horrors of isolation.

My steps take me between them.
I walk by but they don’t see.
When I speak, they hear nothing.
I brush their shoulders with mine,
And it is like they don’t feel.

Desperate, I beg and plead.
I shout at them, degrade them.
I shove them, but they are stone.
All I have are my own thoughts,
And they are poor company.

They stare through me with dead eyes.
I question if I’m alive.
I scratch and tear at my flesh.
I rip at my skin and bleed..
I need to see my heart beats.

Even though I am breathing,
To them I am a phantom.
They do not know I am here.
Alone among the many,
I seethe, grieve and long for death.

I reach for their throats and squeeze,
Yet they won’t cry, scream or die.
I am but a ghost, it seems.
So I shout and wail instead.
Even though I live, I’m dead.

And I don’t know when this ends.