.Hidden in chaos.

She had lost even her own name.

I feel like a ghost,
Even to the ones I love most,
It's as if I could just disappear,
And it's all become very clear,
That I may as well just be a ghost,
For there is not much of a difference between me and him, except that I have a host,
For even to my friends I appear invisible at times,
They just forget I'm there, sometimes,
It's as if, If I was gone nobody would even notice,
The only one who would was my mother who is never there when I need her near,
So that she can hear,
What I've got say,
I wanted her to stay,
But all I would hear is that I'm still near,
It's ONLY two hours away, dear;
But then again sometimes she even forgets,
I'm here, while she's running from her debts,
And swimming in all her regrets,
With all her friends,
Just around the bend:
White wine and cigarettes,
And maybe even a special friend called cannabis, does she even realise how much this upsets,
But of course she wouldn't she only notices I'm there, sometimes, when she needs me,
And all I want to do is flee,
But of course not me,
Because people only see,
Me when they want to,
When it's benefiting them, and if they only knew,
That they aren't the only ones and everyone else also just sees my as a tool to help themselves,
Why can't they see that I need help? Instead they just put me on their shelves,
Until I'm useful again, but how can I help them if I can't even help myself?
But then again, I am a ghost, so why would I need help?
I am just a tool to let everyone help themselves,
I don't even have my own identity, anymore,
Because all I do is lay upon the shore,
Of society,
Feeling too much anxiety,
To make the next move,
But I've got nothing to prove,
Because when I say a word, I tend to startle those around,
And I just usually don't make a sound,
I'm not my own person anymore,
And if I were laying on the floor,
A knife in my chest,
I must confess,
That I bet even you wouldn't notice, even if you were someone just like me,
You would think I'm just distressed or better yet, you wouldn't even see,
That person laying on the ground finally looking just like the ghost they'd always been.
For I am the fly on the wall,
And sometimes I think, maybe I don't want help anymore,
Because I'd finally left my hard shell,
Of human skin and bones,
And I bet nobody would even know,
For sometimes I can't even remember myself, anymore.