For all these years I've been gifted
I'm just curious
When do I start to enjoy them?

They are somewhat like a smudge of coal dust
on a white wedding gown

He craves a feeling he cannot grasp
And so he spirals in the darkness
Into the womb of existence
Just wanting to prove himself
To declare "I'm worthy of life, see me!"
As he feels invisible, despite his best efforts
He is more a ghost than a man,
Even so, he lacks spirit.

She wants to be happy
A feeling she cannot define
Gnashing teeth; molded smile
To blend into the crowd
She is an actress forever in the spotlight
Every street, train car, and public sphere
She assimilates to the point of amnesia  
She longs for something easier;
Some kind of relief she can't articulate nor manifest.
Imprisoned by illness of mind, of body -
Her façade shifts to reality as her reflection grows unfamiliar
She tries so hard to differentiate authentic self from the other
But the lies all blend together, leaving her dizzy

Ground in the blinder of life
Their hearts poured through a strainer
She grasps the strings
He weaves them into ropes that hold them together.
Be it kindness or cruelty, the act carries the stench of survival

They are one, and
They are magnets facing
Opposite direction
Jaded jigsaw pieces forced together.
Then called a pretty picture.
They crave singularity
Balance of both body and mind.
A work in progress, they ride the wave
Hoping to wash ashore more whole than before.

At times, it sounds like crowds are cheering, when I'm sitting in a silent room.

With my lower jaw working on a merger with my upper. I take a deep breath and sigh.

Until I hear the silence.

The inconvenienced patron always arrived late. 
They always had a glass to fill, and not a minute to wait. 
Their emotions were like landmines, and their problems all your own. 
The inconvenienced patron was always picking a bone. 
They tell you how they were mistreated, how others are so unkind. 
Then rant and rave about how how if they’d had just been patient with them everything would be fine. 
The inconvenienced patron never seemed to give a second glance 
To the glazed over patrons not holding their breath 
For an ounce of positivity nor some selfless grace. No. 
The inconvenienced patron made them blue in the face.

I stumbled upon your linkedin yesterday,
and saw you frozen in time.
Read through an articulate and proud bio, and wished that that was still you embodied.  
Before all the pieces crumbled apart.
I didn't realize that it would haunt me.
What a feeling it is, to know you're alive, while mourning as if you're gone.
I would give you all my hope if it had a chance of saving you.

Spent countless days waiting and wishing for someone to come save me.

Until I stood up and realized the whole reason I am here is to save myself.

Though every joy that could be enhanced, and every misery that could be diluted.
Thoughts of escape dance like ballerinas in my mind.
Fluid in motion and undeniably enticing

I swoon for them - hypnotized.

They are really sirens seducing me, and pulling me toward oblivion.

I'm a moth to the flame.

Seeking a comfort zone that was never comfortable to begin with.
To inflict a suffering I do not deserve, yet so desperately long for at times.