at times the world
that runs on tracks
around the bed
of iron nails
clicking clack
deaf  to what it crushes
not looking back
charging forward
steaming blind
towards where ever
the tracks run out

I don't have a best friend
Not to be mistaken with having no friends
I do have some friends
But I have to the conclusion that they aren't trustworthy
Instead,  they are rather demanding
They have seen me laugh
and be funny
Talk about silly mistakes
and how others make me feel
They know that I don't have anyone in my life
and my unwillingness to dance
What they don't know
is that every day I fight
with myself
Not with scratches, blades and pins
But with my soul within
They don't know what I have been through
They have never seen the bruises still blue

They don't know
They just assume
They are not there when I am begging to up above
They are not there when I need a little love
They are not there when I have been crying for hours
They are not there when I feel like dying in the shower

Gossips and lame stuff is what they share
I continue to listen while the music continues to blare
There were many
who became my best friends over the years
Losing touch with them is what I feared
Then that's what happened
Sooner or later they forgot me
Phone calls became rarer
and Facebook our home.

Till today,  I stand without a best friend
Because I know I am whole
I am a winner
who stands alone.

Van Gogh cut off his ear
gave it to a
*******
who flung it away in
extreme
disgust.
Van, ****** don't want
ears
they want
money.
I guess that's why you were
such a great
painter: you
didn't understand
much
else.

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.

I crave to talk to you about it
However what exactly is 'it'
A whirlwind of issues and trouble, interlaced within my thoughts tinging in red

I wish I could crawl in the comfort of your Autumn coloured arms and nestle my fragile body into your portrait masterpiece.

I wish you'd try to understand,
That this pain wasn't planned. I don't choose to feel a wave instead of ripples, that salty water steals my air because of the force it holds.

I long to explain why I feel drained, why simple tasks are no longer natural and it hurts to walk on glass.

the salty smell of summer beaches,
and crashing ocean waves.
a clear autumn sky,
and september’s birthstone sapphire.
crisp winter air,
and cold stinging against your skin.
vibrant hydrangeas in spring bloom,
your eyes that last time in may,
and the salty taste of tears.