the world is lonely when kept behind glass,
caged within the solitude of my bedroom.
days begin accumulating,
all whilst I linger in front of the familiar windows
counting seconds as the days pass languidly, sedating me in a secluded 'paradise' of my own making.
Here, I am shielded from your shortfall and my own disappointment.  
Here, I know im not to win, for I am unwillingly, and constantly, losing.  
Still, I sit stationary watching as the leaves fall off the same trees they grew on a week ago.

my world is lonely.

Perhaps you won’t be everything that you wanted to be
Perhaps you will fall more times than you want
Perhaps she won’t love you back
Or perhaps your best will never be good enough
Perhaps you won’t get hired by your dream job
Perhaps you’ll be mediocre at what you love to do
Perhaps you’ll sweat and cry for little results
Perhaps you think these things weigh you down
And sink you to the bottom of the sea
Or perhaps
They won’t, as you refuse to stay down.

I fabricate a path
of my summertime lies;
while my lover manipulates,
a truth of the same comprise.
i know it is wrong.
that it is unthinkable.
but I cannot help but to long
for this love
that was never meant to be.

this guilt is festering
in my silent soul.
'im selfish and deluded.'
this is getting so old.
is life really that bad, with a roof over my head?
'ethical contradictions between my actions and what I've said.'
is my life too good
for the way I am living it?
'I act like I'm suffering, there is no suffering in this.'
it must all just be me.