Broken

It has been a long time my dear friend,

slowly but surely I feel comfortable enough to be talking to you again. I am recovering, recovering from unfathomable torture, what goes inside my head is madness. I'm not going crazy, so the trip to the asylum would be postponed. I miss writing everything, but I have other things in mind. I'm slowly recovering. I miss the comfort of someone being here for me, but all I feel is this dark void that I wouldn't want to go into. The cold cold space I've endured once upon ago.

I'm recollecting all the pieces on the floor that was destroyed by uncertainties. The broken wall that came crumbling down after you were gone. I have no more reason to have a wall anymore, you aren't here. I have other things to worry about than your own problems. I've been selfless ever since everything, and I hope by now you can actually fix the problems you have, since we didn't get to tend to it when I was still around. I am here struggling, I won't ask for pity. But this at the exact moment, this is what I need. I need to worry about myself. For once I will be selfish. And someday I can see you again. At least when the grass turns green and the sky seems to be clear with out the heavy feeling of dark clouds hovering our souls. I am fine.