Am I Dead?

Am I dead?
I have to wonder this some days,
As my life seems monotonous,
A figure eight.

Some days, 
I feel okay, 
The depression demons are at bay,
And my plans seem to be in place.

Other days, 
I feel low,
Sometimes too slow,
For this race we call Life.

Everyone seems to want to leave me behind,
Even Time. 
Maybe I was too sheltered
to keep up with how Life 
and all its forces
can leave things all helter-skelter. 
Maybe,
My mind belongs elsewhere?

I don't belong here. 
I don't know how to run this race,
With a missing heart
And eyes that can't see,
Lungs that don't know how to breathe.

No, I can't run this race.

My brain tore itself to pieces
For the miserable, maddening, maze that is Life. 
My heart packed it's bags
And took a flying, fumbling, featherless leap for Love. 
And my eyes lost their lives...
Watching, waiting, wandering, wondering when 
something could be placed before them 
like a holiday feast,
Solely for them to devour.

But each day,
I wander on. 
Floundering deeper and deeper into myself. 
Drowning within my own bay. 
Watching countless others 
Finding ways
To shine
To be alive.

When will they realize
That among them 
There's one who is dead?

Author's Note

Day 5 of the poetry prompt challenge for the month of May. The topic: Living Like The Dead.