The Brick in the Wall

I don’t feel like me anymore.
I am invisible. 
Like a glass pane painted with windex and paper towels.
I strive to become the brick on the wall for even the flower is too distinct.
Bleed into the background.
BA void of what I once was. 
Broken promises that once rang as true to my ears now sound hollow with no substance.
I go to speak.
To reach out.
To seek help.
To meet new people.
I choke.
My throat closes as the words I attempt to type never reach the screen in front of my eyes.
I attempt to be calm and collected.
I attempt to shield myself from others.
I fail. 
I too easily trust the candy glossed whispers of haven from my mind.
Reach for the bottle instead.
The constant inebriated state of suspension prevents the emotions.
Spilling over into my consciousness into my personality. 
I try to become better and the isolation haunts me.
I am incapable of feeling joy just as a dog is incapable of seeing all the colors we are able to perceive. 
Goosebumps along my skin.
I meet someone new. 
My joy turns lighting fast to regret for opening up.
What could this person do with these secrets. 
What could I do to prevent the harm.
Invisible.
ecome nothing.
That is what I shall do.
I choke.
I try to meet new people.
I try to seek help.
To reach out.
I go to speak. 
My throat closes as the words disappear from the breath leaving my lungs.
Once true now broken promises sound hollow in my head. 
Echoing deceit in my brain.
A void of who I once was. 
I am not me anymore.
I am nothing.