And then there were five

Counting the days like I usually count my steps. To and from, one mistake to the next. The sun sets the same no matter where I am. And rises the next day like a ghost from an unmarked grave.

It will feel good to say I've been there. Once I've left this place. It seems I'm not as accomplished at being alone as I thought. Conversations with imaginary people help pass the time, but my future remains as uncertain as ever. Hoping there might be someone waiting for me. Knowing I'm probably too lost to be found.

Nevermind

It was a stupid idea. To think that writing about any of this would change a thing.

I'm counting the days.

It's all I can do.