"No strings attached" turned into one big string attached to my heart that you pull and yank at relentlessly even when you're not there
And  it's not fair that you feel nothing
And I feel pain
It was just a game to you
it was real to me.
And now all I can do to not feel the pain
is lie and say it doesn't matter
When in reality it matters a lot for some stupid reason I can't seem to discover  
This is dumb, all this effort for what?
So I can force feed myself the same ******* about how "it's a lesson I learned" to lessen the hurt
but it never works and I never learn
And I am always being pulled by those ******* strings

I don’t consider myself a bad person. Its not like I’m a ****** or axe murderer or something horrible like that, but who I was and who everyone thought I should be didn’t always line up. I was made up of many different people. I never thought I had a fixed personality.  To quote Walt Whitman, “I contain Multitudes.”

I can never call just one person home because homes decay over time and if you're not careful they'll collapse on you.

You taught me that the difference between a house and a home was who you belonged to and I'm still trying to figure out how I could belong to no one and everyone at the same time.

I've spent my entire life in houses with unstable foundations
And more than a few of them have caved in on me
Trapping me in the dysfunctional rubble.

Humans have a bad habit of destroying what keeps them safe like natural disasters and I now understand why they name hurricanes after people

I've learned to live in the open because the night sky is a lot stronger than any roof or "I love you" will ever be

We throw the word love around like a bad game of catch but I'm here to tell you that love is not a ball that we can toss around in the yard after dinner but rather a fragile glass sphere that more often than not hits the ground leaving us to clean up the shattered mess others have left behind.

Look Both Ways Before Crossing the Street
by Winston Lee & Enigmuse

Thoughts: they careen through my head like
cars in the midst of rush hour. I search for
one car in particular. My head is the foundation

of an unconstructed civilization, and I find myself
to be a tourist in the depths of my own mind. I
know all too well how easy it is for others to get lost

in the enigmatic chaos that is my head but I won’t
lose you. I am nothing, compared to the blinding lights
and insistent, blaring sounds, all warring for your attention.

I wander the streets with the sad, distant thought
that maybe I’ll glance up and find your headlights
slicing through the grey overcast. I’d even settle

for the looming red glow of your pretty, quiet
tail lights. But I know you’re long gone and your
lights are long out. The sad and beautiful part about

my mind is that I’m trapped here. And I believe I’d
still be searching for you, even if I didn’t want to. I’m
am a slave to my own thoughts, I am in love

with my mind’s creations. And while I’m well aware that
you are but a figment of my infinite imagination, I will do
everything I can to continue to believe in you.

I am merely a second of time, while you’re the hours
the days and the weeks; I am only for a moment and
you seem like an eternity. The people I pass on the street

know something I don’t - everyone seems to have
figured out how to live with their demons, while mine
like to play keep-away with my sanity. They look a lot like

you. Every time you cross my mind it sounds a lot like
contorting metal and the shrieks of pedestrians. I suppose
we’ve got a lot in common with a car crash.

We lived by the street lights and loved under the moon.  
We went to fast grew up to soon
We would spend our nights crazy and obscene
Fighting against the misuse of the word "teen"
Because when we grew up we knew nothing would ever be like what it seemed.

From birth to death we are constantly evolving constantly growing and weaving our selves into the lives of other people like an entanglement of stars in the night sky. But life isn't like a star or the ocean or anything else we compare it too. Life and all it's complexities cannot be compared to a single entity but rather a mosaic of the fragmented stain glass that is the human experience.