Almost. Almost there, but never quite reaching the destination. Almost alive, but never truly existing. Almost here, but an inch too far.

Too much. Too alive that he missed the part that says- part of living is dying, half of happiness is misery.

There is no such thing as "top" without a dip to dive in somewhere around it.

And searching for that pleasant intersection between "almost" and "too much" is how one clothes the entire sky with missing the point of this life.

That our first love
will always be
our earliest
encounter with heartache
and this will rightfully claim
familiarity within us;
something about it will somehow keep those days alive- long after moving on.”

Busy people rarely ever feel sad. Why? Because sadness requires a certain depth of epiphany, a subtle but constant blow in the gut. You can never find sadness lurking in the corners of a busy office or in a library full of curious young minds.

Sadness, I think, is when the world has momentarily left its orbit to embark on a dim lit path. It is there when the day is over and the lights are out and you are left sitting in the dark feeling every bit of human. It is when you'd rather stay in for the rest of the night- and day, as well -because frankly, you have forgotten the difference.

As the café fills
with youthful chatter
and screechy laughter
I wonder
what it’d be like to have a friend.

At the billiards
hip teens lovingly roast each other—
their style and form
bring warmth to my lonely day.
Would I ever play billiards
or is that game
reserved for people who have friends?

I sip my strawberry tea
and imagine
having a good friend
To unwind with storytelling and gossip

We'd drink pink martinis
and be so chic in black.
And we'd be loud and open.
I'd be so happy
That I'd never have to write poetry again.

As the fantasy fades
I smile into my strawberry tea
Not too pink, but plenty of sweet.
This is alright. This cold drink is a friend.

Contrary to popular belief,
depression is the best pain killer there is.
It forces itself down your throat,
and canon-***** into your stomach.
Ripples chills throughout your body,
that's when you know it's starting to work.
It pulses through your veins,
numbness radiating through you.
Soon,
there is no pain.
It will consume you until there is nothing left,
just the hollow shell
of a once
happy
girl.

I live in my own mind,
but it is open for you to travel
My opinions play by one rule,
the truth of the matter
If I don't know
then I will have no opinion until I know
My voice relies upon temperance,
but first I will pause
What I believe is personal,
I hope my actions are enough
I value your freedom and mine,
coexistence
All I know is who I love
and they will know it too
What I advise is balance
and empathy
If you wish to change me,
I'm not for you
If you have a life,
I can respect you
If you understand me,
I could love you
To live alone is not rejection,
only discovery
To live together is about the soul,
will it survive?

I learned long ago
That we all belong somewhere.
I belong to the Hurt
To the lost
To the broken
To the depressed
To the angry
To the empty
To the hateful
To the hopeless
Who knew one day
I'd belong
To the **healed

I've grown lonely
And tired of faking
Composed on the outside
But inside I'm shaking

The world is deafening
But my head is silent
My thoughts swirl
Tempting and violent

What I wouldn't give
For a passing smile
A kind gesture
To make it worthwhile

But I'm alone in this world
And painfully so
No one understands
And no one will known

That behind the smile
Hidden deep down
Is a broken person
Hoping to be found