I’m amazed by the volume of sadness I carry, and convinced it will one day spill from my pores for everyone to see. Many times when I’m alone, I travel back in time to the moment life lost its meaning, and it felt like I couldn’t continue. My despair covers me like a tarp; it follows me everywhere. How do I move on when it refuses to let go?

I lie down with my eyes closed; sleep has long fled my bed. My heart sits dead in my chest, hands wrap around my belly, and my legs wrestle with the sheet. I cry out in my sleep, my dreams are filled with ephemeral forms that twirl and dance. They mock me whenever my fingers pass through them, a reminder that I can’t have what I desire. I’m wandering in the corridors of the past and the exit eludes me.

What…