Cold.

Standing in the middle.

Nowhere.

Surrounded by silence.

Untouchable.

Held in awe.

Turmoil inside,

fighting fire with fire,

ice with ice,

tearing away from touching,

from feeling,

yet wanting to feel.

Reaching out with shaking hands,

trembling fingers,

only to touch--

Thin air.

running away from having to interact,

from understanding,

yet needing to understand.

Wanting to feel,

to be held,

to be loved.

shunned,

whispers behind backs,

unkind stares.

cruel hands reaching out,

to hurt,

to injure,

to tear across thoughts.

slipping from shadow to shadow,

unwanted,

seeking refuge,

no one to turn to,

held inside a cell,

struggling to catch their attention,

calling,

running to the door,

to the bars,

hoping to find warmth,

love,

care,

understanding,

only to realise there is no one there.

there never was.

there never will be.

--By Yue Lin, 'Inside the mind of Vanyel.'

last - next