I Live Here

On my street there are no signs, Because I do not want to be found.

In my house there are no windows, I do not want to see what is out there.

By my room sits a black cat , I do not want to him to leave me.

Near my bed sits a knife, I do not want to cut myself.

By my street sits the children playing, I need to know they are out there .

Near my house sits a mailbox , I need to write to the outside world.

In my room there is no silence , I do not want the voices to stop.

On my bed there is an empty space ,I do not want anybody to fill it.

This is where I live.

Lost

Where has it gone?
I've lost it again.
I guess it was something
I really did not need
But then why do I miss it?
How did I get it to begin with ?
What was I going to do with it anyways?
I still feel as if it was something I needed.
Maybe that's why I still feel lost.