Sonnet #98

I am one with this pile of pillows;
If I am needed, I cannot be reached.
If I will emerge again, no one knows;
Consider me a whale that has been beached.

For I am out of my element, lost, 
Looking at the choices that led me here,
And shaking my head at the awful cost
That removed me from the ones I held dear.

I am not sure if there is a way back
To the state of contentment I’d achieved,
But I am positive I have a knack
For getting lost more than can be believed.

But for now I’ll just melt into this bed
And give in to the voices in my head.