I am not blind
I am not deaf
I am not without
intuition.
I feel the lies
the waste of breath
those waiting in the wings
the replacement men.
You can go
and be with them
just dont act
like you're sorry
for using me.

And there is nothing between us
that isnt shared with the masses.
Nohing that is only ours,
that has no strings attached
for you always play for yourself.
This isnt a team
its a dream
that I would find someone
who loves me
despite what I had
despite what materials
I could and would give
just to see you smile.
But I deserve  
a fair exchange
of effort, commitment,
and time.
It scares me that I'm
the only one trying and crying
over you.

The hollow and empty
"I love you's"
are poison,
are killing me
slowly.
Burning my empathy
and hope
to the ground
behind my eyes
without a sound
just ashes and ice
in my soul.

Over and over
climbing through
each broken window.
A never ending,
painful experience
with ****** palms.
Leaving little bits behind
on every sill.

These days, being an old soul
just means I hate being sober.
Bottles full of  tears  numb the pain and I'm colder
than ever.
Memories only seem to get heavier
as the nights grow longer
I wish I was strong
enough.

Ive been trying to talk to you
but you sleep deep
so I'm alone tonight
with my restlessness
and anxiety
ridden brain
that has me scared to wake you
though youre pressed to my frame.
I'm so so afraid of the weight
of these thoughts on my mind
it feels as though time is just
slipping by.
I feel as if
control of my life isn't mine.
I wish that we could just
leave this whole world behind
and live wonder by wonder
not trapped by the vices we're under
not walking on eggshells,
stepping quietly,
while the world around
is all thunder.

This holiday, the skies are gray.
This season is not for me.
I feel recluse, I hide away.
Depression soon consumes me.

It comes around this time each year.
It creeps up, as others are full of cheer.
Families, all are gathering.
The food and fun that they all bring,
seems mocking now.
I can't recall
just when did these days
get so dull
I cannot find  that childhood spark
I worry something's wrong with me.
Will holidays forever be
so dim, so empty, and unhappy.