I haven't written in a few years, so tell me what you think

(I stopped writing a year before I started listening to Ani, I stopped listening to her, a while back, and every time I pick up the pen, it seems like I write one of her songs, music has a funny way of affecting you. Please be brutaly honest.)

Untitled

I'm here.
Midnight to midnight.
Insomniac?
No. I just can't close my eyes.
I dream about you,
The memory rushes back when I wake.

No one sees me,
But I’m still there,
Beneath the mild mannered demeanor,
Beneath the scars,
Beneath the part of me that yearn to tear away from society, lie down and just sleep.
Sleep until I see you,

I can’t make it stop,
The world revolves yet I stay in one place,
Perpetual limbo.

One more moment, to touch your hair,
To look into your eyes and tell you that I love you,
I’ll never have that,
And so I can’t find myself.

But I’m still there,
Sane. For the moment.
At least the man with the diploma on the wall seems to think so,
“It’s normal to go through this,” he says,
“You have as long as you need to grieve.”
Who gave this *** a diploma any way?
Is it still grieving when I catch myself talking to you over breakfast?

Is it still grieving when I can hear you answering me?