Life's realities
Settling like falling snow
Can smother any flame

I'm trying to move forward
Trying to build a life for myself
You know, the one that everyone seems to be striving for
We may not all want the same white picket fence or number of children but I'd be ****** if somebody told me that they didn't want the roof over their head to feel like home.
Some people say that home is not a place but a feeling
I don't know what they're talking about
I wonder if this is why I always feel lost
Why, whenever I go home, I feel misplaced. Like an oversized puzzle piece in the wrong box.
I am trying to fit in but it is clear that I don't belong
I am trying to move forward, trying to build a life for myself, but I have come to realize that I have been filling this void with material possessions
I have so many nice things in my house, that for a while I even had myself fooled
You cannot buy that feeling, but maybe it can be mended. 
When I look around me, I see that most people have the sense of home weaved into their foundation.
Some things cannot be built from scratch.
I had to take the good with the bad, despite wanting to leave them both behind.
I went home the other day, and by home I mean hell, and by hell I mean Phoenix, but it might as well be hell because that scorching city holds all of my demons.
I drove to my childhood home
To my surprise it was still standing.
I could have swore that the foundation would have given way by now, and that I would have to sift through the rubble just to find what I was looking for.
I glared at this house in disgust, as if it were a monster that swallowed my happiness.
As I was about to drive away, a woman walked out with two little girls in sun dresses. They were racing to the car, I couldn't make out their words but their smiles and laughter hit me like a brick.
I drove away and everything began to make sense.
Home is not a place, home is a feeling.

In a condescending tone I hear the way you judge my life
At first I want to take offense and give into the strife

Then I take a step back and objectively observe
I realise your the one who's lost you proved it with your words

You asked me shallow questions only focussed on externals
Then judged me based on made up scales that give no weight to the internal

Its proof to me that this same scale you use on your own life
And soon you will not measure up and fall on your own knife

Because you never can be good enough,  at least not for forever
Your shiny stainless ego will soon rust from stormy weather

What I am trying to say is,
I am well aware that it matters not whether I am with or without you;
I will keep moving,
but I much prefer your limbs with my limbs,
and I enjoy the tragedy you think makes you unable to be loved,
and I'm sorry I didn't touch you a little bit longer,
and when you're here I feel it,
and when you're not I feel it too.

by : Alexandra Crawford

The empath girl
feels for those she loves most
On a level that cannot be understood by a simple mind.
But the empath girl
also feels so alone
For no one will ever care about her
On that same level.

I can still hear your heartbeat
I can still feel your breath
I can still feel your lips on the nape of my neck.
If I could.
I'd go back
and
every time we broke a kiss
and
I felt you breath out.
I'd breathe in your carbon dioxide.
For you I'll find a way to become a tree
So every time you breathe out
I can breathe you in.
And every time I exhale.
I could actually be beneficial to you.