a poem written in hurt

i stuff my memories into a
glass jar, the cool surface
soothing my dry hands.

dancing alone never felt
this lonely before,
and i wonder if maybe
it's because he is dancing 
in the sky.

surrounded by angels,
surrounded by love, but all
i feel surrounded by is the 
never ending sadness
in her eyes.

he was pale, oh
so pale.

the thought haunts me.

the voice twists itself around
the crevices in my brain,
scratching at my skull.

i can't say i'm lonely
when millions surround me,
so i let the tide, slowly
but surely, pull me away.

i see the world in a grayscale,
my purples and pinks and reds and greens
unseen by my dark eyes.

prayers have become a sickened
rant against faith, and
if god was listening, 
he sure would be mad.

i'm mad?
i'm mad.

but most of all
i'm lonely.