As my mind begins to wonder,
I am compelled to wander;
Going ever further,
The distance ever farther.

A Rose by any other name is said to still retain its scent:
A sweet perfume that fills the room to all of our content.
And though this little musing contains poetic form,
When truth is told, I am not sold, for I know there to be thorns.
And if known instead for these pricking fiends
--and not its aromatic petals--
Then perhaps the rose would not be love's flowered vessel.
And the fragrant sweetness we attribute to its structure
Would cease to be a welcomed whiff and the Rose would lose its luster.

You thought he'd listen,
But he won't.
You thought you'd care,
But you don't.

In a story never ending
little upsets aren't upending

You thought it was forever,
But it wasn't.
You thought it mattered,
But it doesn't.

Stare at my feet--
Bite my tongue;
Habits learned when I was young.

Smile more--
Sit up taller;
Lessons taught when I was smaller.

Calm down--
Don't be so wild;
Words used to tame the child.

A melancholy saunter, future fresh within its grave
Knowing that the darkness is something you must brave
The unknown is daunting, but beckons nonetheless
Ignoring all the wisdom that claims that it knows best

You've tried the paths well traveled, but they ended all the same
In heartbreak and ruin, and they say you are to blame
So sure of the destination that it's the only road they paved
But you can't find your happiness on the map they made

You're frightened and shaking and standing on the edge
You're facing the void and its uncharted depths
But you will run forward because you can't crawl back
And into the darkness you wander at last

The subtle buzz of recognition,
High pitched squeak of a hello.
The gentle hum of conversation,
Small talk with friends you barely know.

A small acquaintance fills the silence,
Keeps you from fiddling on your phone.
But it breeds only temporary compliance,
And I would rather sit alone.

Destroyed. Distraught.
I've cried. A lot.
You're fine. I'm not.