Discontent. Jealousy.

Lost in another world.

Swallowed into another realm.

A place where I have what I want,

Possess all that I’m envious of,

My imagination.

“No need to say another word,

they don’t want to hear me anyway.”

Only God sees me, wants me,

I might as well be molded into clay, as statue,

Set on some mountain somewhere, in another nation.

Longings, that are never quenched.

“What if I could be touched like she was?

Fought over and possessively grasped by the palm?”

I look on intently, etching every affectionate gesture on the canvas on my mind.

Don’t seek to discover my thoughts, lest I die of humiliation.

“What’s wealth? What’s fame? What’s assets?

What’s a billion dollars in my account,

If I lack one whom tenderly calls my name?

For I lust not after money, fame or assets,

Just recognize me! See me! Want me! Call me!

I sink deeper in this crippling depression.”