Forsaken once again.


With nothing but my torturous thoughts to accompany me


Reality and nightmares ceased to lack resemblance.

My worst fears had become my truth.

But somehow I was content.


Content with identifying my inner sorrows as my most loyal companion.

Not because I enjoyed the grief it brought upon my weary soul,

But because it was the only thing I could trust.


It was the only thing that would, at no time, desert me,

Like the others had unintentionally done.


I could pace the grounds of Tokyo,

Or roam the cities of Italy,

My life consuming depression would always shadow me.


And in a sick twisted way the never ending, soul crushing, agonizing ache that was Held in the depths of my destitute heart,

Made me feel slightly less



Victoria Oliveira

Originally published in the 2013-2014 edition of Outside In.