It's personal.

Welcome to hello poetry

They put a knife into my back
But they can't take my pride, no they can't take my pride
They came and took all that I have
But they forgot my soul, I still have my soul
I have to find something to occupy my mind
I've thought through the list of hate
My list of hate

Is back

*****

You don't know what it's like to be me
Walking around in ***** history
You seem too alarmed now
Like something's holding you back
I know what you are
You are... You are....


You're better than that.


I think about you all of the time
But I'm so glad that you're no longer mine
We had a good run
Those times were so great
But all of that sweet love


Eventually turned into hate


Now I'm sinking, or am I dreaming?
Life doesn't come with a handbook.

There is a presence
What is this presence?
Trying hold my hand through the rain.

I've been viewing life from the corner of the room that's packed full of drunk, ridiculous people.
What do I think? I don't think poorly of them, or look down on anyone. I find them interesting and more fun to watch than interact with.
What do they think?  I don't really care.
There's a weird comfort in knowing that I am going to be on my own for the rest of my life, so I try not to get too attached to other humans.
There's a weird discomfort in wondering if I'll ever be able to closely connect with somebody ever again.
It's interesting to see all of these close friends, long-time relationship, and unbreakable bonds between humans.
I believe I've felt it before, but now it's weird.



I built a brick wall last summer. It keeps all of the emotions out.