Untitled.

I feel empty, like a pen with no ink.
So many thoughts, but none in sync.
I feel so lost, like an alcoholic without a drink.
And much like them, my sanity's at its brink.

So many people and places it's hard to tell what's real.
Am I awake or dreaming? It's all surreal.
In one life she walks towards me with beauty so unreal,
Bends down and whispers her name in my ear. "Lucille"

Now she's gone and I am falling,
But it's not her name that I am calling.
Through these trenches I am crawling,
Only finding myself more appalling.