Doors slam,
voices are shrill,
this is home.

We are family.
and in our gathering,
we pick each other apart.

The vultures wait at our doorstep,
fed with our torn apart egos,
and tears preserved in mason jars.

We are family,
and we knock each other down,
we are home.

Rain runs down my face
As I'm walking all alone.
Not many people have been in my place
Where your house is not a home.

I told you I wasn’t perfect, but on your pedestal I stood
I told you I would make mistakes, but you didn’t hear a word
I begged and I pleaded for you to listen, but you would drown me out
So the day I ****** things up was the day you did more than shout
You wailed and screamed and cried, you held a funeral as if the pretty parts of me had died
But Honey, I warned you, perfection is not real
The disappointment you have is yours to carry, and is not mine to feel
As you leave you slam the door, trailing echoes of regret
I cover my ears for silence, but my thoughts break through in time
If you would have just listened, ******* opened up your eyes
You would have seen that honey, this came as no surprise
This disappointment is yours, and is not mine
For honey I’ve known that I’m not perfect for quite a long time.

The room feels heavy,
sleepy morning smiles
and satiate English words
clinging to to air.
They reach out,
trying to pinch me,
as insistent as
the professor's smile.

Some of us still feel
as we do at 7 a.m.,
though our minds are
overflowing fountains
of new knowledge
as we try to hold
and scoop it back in.
they're drowning me,
the letters are drowning
and too tired
to swim.

It's the feeling I get
of a stomach ache
and not being able to tell
whether it's because
I'm actually sick,
or just overwhelmed
with possibilities.
*What will I do?
What will I be?
Maybe I should
just try to focus
on what's in front
of me.

It's more than just constant worry,
It's fear.

The fear of the small things,
Did I leave the oven on?
Did I lock the door?
Do my socks match?

The fear of the big things,
Does he love me?
Am I annoying?
Is somebody following me?

The fear of seemingly impossible things,
What if somebody shoots up the school?
What if I die today from a meteor?
Are there robot overlords?

The fear of unfortunate possible things,
What if If I don't have exact change?
I don't know how to answer this question, what if the teacher calls on me?
I cant stop loving him, even though he probably doesn't know I exist

It is more than a constant worry,
It's fear.

as i get older, i realize bonds are not as easily forged and the value of friendship increases astronomically
i realize how long it's been since i've been touched
and remember how i used to hug each and every one of my friends when i was younger
and now it's a wave, a quick nod of the head before briskly walking out the door, no looking back, no checking to see if everything is okay
i realize loneliness isn't saved for 2 am revelations
loneliness is saved in the mundane moments-
watching tv on the couch
wanting to tell someone how i feel, but not wanting to annoy anyone
trying to sleep in the middle of the day because there's nothing to look forward to and oblivion is better than the soul crushing disappointment
of loneliness

Loneliness is like being hit with a ton of bricks everyday,only you don't die