From The Bed of A Recluse

I try

Everyday

To speak to my Family

Mustered courage
Gone to Waste

All that energy?

It took up my day

Calming breaths
Counting to ten

Turning the doorknob

Once again

Venturing forward, halfway down the hall
I say “Hello, what’s going on?”

No movement, no response

I turn back

To my room

Climb into my bed
Sitting, legs splayed

Looking busy
But really

Wondering

What’s wrong with me?

Have I died?

Am I a ghost?

If so, then where is my mother?

To leave me with these people

They don’t even see
Hear or
Acknowledge my voice
Validate my worth

Where has everyone gone?

That even my words cannot reach?

Thoughts?

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