Analysis of Ruins

    People love to tell me I'm lost, but what they don't understand is; I'm not lost I'm forgotten.
     I've been forgotten, not by other people, I've forgot myself, I don't know who I am.
Am I gay or am I straight?
Am I loved or am I hated?
Am I smart or am I dumb?
Am I alive or am I dead...?
     Honestly, I couldn't tell you. I've lost myself in the ruins, the ruins of trauma, the ruins or depression, of heartbreak that the love only ever appeared on one side, of people who promise and swear they wont leave but the second shit gets hard, I don't see them.
     They don't re-appear. they leave for good, for some pretty girl they met on Instagram or Facebook or snapchat. They leave me and when they do, I'm left to be forgotten in the ruins. I'm left in the dust, I'm left to only dig myself a deeper hole.
     They say 6 ft. under is enough to be qualified as dead, but right now I'm digging myself a 100 ft. hole. i know that to everyone I'm alive. but in my book you aren't alive if you have no emotion, your stuck with your heart beating and your just breathing.