I search the world over for my inspiration. I find that inspiration comes more with the bad than the happy. Loss. Fear. Heartbreak. Depression. They inspire art to be made. Words to be written. Notes to be played. So in the sadness of the world is there not beauty? Who is to say only happiness and beauty and love are beautiful to our souls when sadness is what we all relate to. Sadness is something we all have shared. Not everyone has had a happy moment. But everyone has had their moment of weakness. Of sadness.

I walk down this road all alone,
No one’s problems but my own.
But they’re too heavy to carry.
I stumble, I fall.
Can’t stand up so I crawl.
I’m drowning in tears
Overcome by my fears.
I just need to get out.
My life’s in the drain,
Can’t handle so much pain.
Just gotta get out.
Everything seems so different,
But I’m still the same.
When I thought life was good problems came.
I don’t know where life’s taking me.
I go around like what comes around.
Never knowing home, I feel like a puppy from the pound.
I’m drowning in tears,
Overcome by my fears.
I just need to get out.
My life’s in the drain,
Can’t handle so much pain.  
I just gotta get out.
I’m filled with doubt,
Just need to get out.
It’s not them it’s me.
Can’t this just be a dream?

If ever there were no secret depths
inside the corners
of a heart,
perhaps lips would not
whisper words
with no preconceptions.
We could paint the air we breathe,
gentle colors that softly speak
to the mind
in a misty lullaby’s reflection.  

If we could swim within our words
touching gray areas
with kisses of time
perhaps, we could gather waves
to last throughout the years.
In the dark of night,
our hearts' would blush,
as they existed side by side
on the edges
of our atmosphere.

Wherever our hands desired to wander,
unnoticed they would never be,
flaming winds stirring
precious hours.
Once again, we could sleep on beds
of soft words raining down
into all of our emotions
and dream
in poetic showers.

Panic strikes me
as I realize that
I'm alone

Alone for the first time--
and I don't know
what to do with myself

All these people
Insistent beeping, buzzing,
rolling, shutting

My collective mind
Unraveling
Before my eyes as I have
No one to talk to
to
Connect
with

Floundering
thumbing through
my contacts
to find someone

Anyone

To make me feel wanted,
to feel that my company,
even if through a phone,
is wanted, that I am
desirable

As I fold in on myelf
the Layers turning inward,
eating themselves--

The waitress leans down and asks:

Is everything okay?

I respond, muttering:

mmhm.

It's killing me from the outside in
you know...

But I don't say that

As the layers fold,
the only thing that remains
is a scared little girl
just as frightened as she was
the day she opened her eyes
underwater
and looked around
and realized how eerily
vast and deep the water was...

It still scares her.
It scares me.
And I realize
that the one thing
I can't stand more than
Anything
more than death itself:
is being alone.

Why?

Because when I am
alone with my thoughts
That vastness
that deep ocean of nothingness
bathed in a burning, purified chlorine
Haunts me

Because I cannot fill it,
not even with the deepest of thoughts,
the most vivid sentiments
Cannot satisfy the depths
of the reflective blue against
a slate of unfeeling cement