A Thought

It's strange, isn't it?
Just being...there,
No real feeling, no real....presence.
You're around loved ones,
But there's...no real feeling, no real....presence.
It's strange, isn't it?
That you can only do this,
Express yourself to strangers like this,
You're on here, doing this, pouring out.
You can...feel again. With people you don't know.
They hear you, they recognize you.
Only problem is what happens if they become loved ones,
Do they stop listening? Do you come back to this?
You have no idea, do you? Confused huh?
It's strange, isn't it?
It must be.