Compassion Is Dead

This morning I woke up and it had felt like I had never been to sleep. 
And when I gave my sister a hug as she was leaving, it didn’t feel real.

I sometimes wonder why it’s so hard to walk up 4 steps to a home that haunts me, and why when I talk no one listens.

I think god has left our world,
And he’s sitting somewhere pretty with his son catching up on the years that has passed. Laughing at our incompetence. 
And we’re all praying aloud just to be heard in a room full of people.

I laid in the floor tonight questioning every second I’ve lived. 
I didn’t achieve any answers.
I keep using the word compassion as if it’s a shiny red button I can push and solve all my problems. But this isn’t a goddamn cartoon, and I can’t push buttons to save my life.

And I’ve come to the conclusion 
that I can’t count on anyone, and life is a lie told by a rapist on death row apologizing because truth is too much of an inconvenience of the mouth to conjure.

Kind of like when someone tells you they will always be there for you.