For hours upon hours
I sit on a flimsy, old chair
amongst a large gathering of people
too engrossed in their troubles to notice
that the hours feel like days and days
of loneliness, trapped inside these walls
looking out to see that no one has a care
for the things I feel inside
day in and day out
365 days of the year.

I think I'm dying.
There's a pain in my chest
and my hands shake like crazy
and all that plays in my head
is the way you kissed me on my forehead
and said, "I'm so, so sorry."

I feel so pathetic
because I know it's over
but you still bring me to my knees
and I still beg for you to stay.
But nothing keeps you in my arms
and there's gotta be a way I can deal with that.

Sometimes you need to learn
that moving on is painful
and moving on is hard
but moving on is needed
when you have nowhere else to turn and
no one else to rely on.

I said to her bleakly,
"Honey, there's no space for you anymore."
She collapsed my cabinets of memories
locked in my mind
and made a mess out of the images
that once stole my heart
and the tears drowned out
every last bit of emptiness I had inside me
so I had to say goodbye,
so long,
and thanks for dying for me.

You never told me why and I didn't care. I just wanted you gone.

The only things guaranteed in life are
the fall of the sun and rise of the moon
and even sometimes that is questioned.

You ripped my soul right
from my lonely, hollowed chest
yet gave nothing in return.

The goodness that I once saw inside you keeps drifting farther away and I cannot grasp it. You're falling through my fingertips, I'm losing faith in what we have. I don't know what you're doing right or what I'm doing wrong but I can swear to you that I will not give up my chances to make you work in my life. You brought happiness to it once, you brought excitement to it as well and I'd like to think I did the same for you. Oh, how I wish we could talk like we once did with your "hello miss" and my "good night sir." But now it's like ripping nails from a piece of plywood except they're flattened into your hands forbidding you to type and send me a simple hello. That's all I ask for to help cure my insanity. I don't want to hover or mislead or make you feel obligated. I just want us to be us again; the fun-loving, carefree, get-caught-by-the-cops-making-out us we once were. Please do that for me.