Good Grief 295

There's the world.....look...see...
Can you see it...?
Out there ..... See!
Can you see it?

I can't hear you...
Your voice sounds far away as if I'm under water
I can see the shapes of things
But they don't seem real
It's a dream, an illusion, a shimmering mirage
Of another place
Beyond my reach

It seems as though you can see me
But I'm not really here

[Having visitors has been an exhausting, debilitating strain. It's not their fault and it will have appeared perfectly lovely. And, indeed, was, in the world called real]