This, I believe, is my most recent one, dated January 15th.

Grasping at straws
Straws filled with holes, dilapidated with age
Melted by flame
But straws nonetheless.
It's all I have
I cannot vanquish my thirst
Or quench my desire
To talk, to be understood, to be thought of as a person once more
A person overrun by emotions
Who lives forever in the past.
But I'll take the straws gladly
For what little comfort they provide
What little hope they can muster
And even less warmth they bestow
For it is truly all I have.