My friends don't know me.
I'm not who they think I am.
Most friends help eachother, If I looked to a friend for help, they'd laugh and mock me.

What I want is someone to listen.
Someone to care.
Someone to tell me there secrets.

I'm not different.
I just don't hide what I am.
Imagine it, freedom.

Freedom to express;
How you feel.
What you want.
Why you're hurting.
What you love.

Someday I'll have someone.
Someone, I can trust my feelings with.
Someone who won't go telling everyone my private feelings the second we fall out.

You stare at a black box
You say you like it better this way
Where the disconnect
Cannot affect

Troubled by this regurgitating behavior of  
Reducing our senses to sight
Because we barely listen

The box doesn't stare back
A disease lies hidden underneath
Asking permission to speak

She pulls the wires from her wrists
Audible pops
Like octopus suction cups
come from her brain

Shocks like jellyfish
And static
sizzle sizzle
In her eyes

Her lips on mute
Like she is the device

1 am
Lonely,
unfriendly night.
Dark skies,
dejected sighs.
Wine sips,
thirsty lips.
Messy hair,
(silent stares).

-cs