I'm in a world of pain, if pain is enough to describe it.
I'm so alone in the world. Loveless and joyless.
Words were never enough.
Enough to spill but not enough to grasp.
Enough to lay out but not enough to spare.
Words, depictions of my soul.
My soul, the words that flow.
So eloquently and freely.
May the words resound my emotions.
May the words resound my feelings.
And may the words resound my thoughts.
I am a broken record.
A curvature of a broken life.
Some are born free and some suffer.
Suffering never cared for me.
Happiness barely showed his face.
It was me and darkness holding hands.

I loved a boy before
Who had angry slashes on his wrist
And drank way too much
Way too often

Sometimes he would go
To all these buildings
And he would step on the ledges
With his arms wide open
And a manic gleam in his eyes

My best friend said
That I should run away
Get away from him
Because he is far too damaged
And far too scarred
She said he was broken

I said I loved him
She said she didn't get it

But the thing is
She didn't see him
Smiling gently at the fireworks
During the 4th of July

And she didn't see him
Tracing the words
On his favorite books
With a reverent kind of awe

And she didn't see him
Laugh when it started
To rain

I think what I'm trying to say here is
She didn't see the parts
Which made him so easy
So very easy to love

He didn't either

Perhaps we are like
Parallel lines

Maybe
Our destinies
Weren't meant to meet
And I won't ever really
Change your life in some
HUGE or
IMPACTFUL
Way

Maybe
I was just meant to
Follow you,
By your side,
Forever

But
I'd be taking care of you
And
You taking care of me,

I would watch you
From a distance as
You watch me and

We'd lead each other on and
Go into the horizon

*Together

Here I find myself alone again
and how stupid to have not
seen it coming, to have
ignored the undeniable truth
that everyone on Earth will
disappoint,
no matter the beautiful lies
they shove down your throat
or the millisecond moments
you allowed indulgence in,
believing they were real.

nothing is real here.

we are all made of dust,
recycled atoms and words and
phrases that we mold to our
own advantage, and who cares if
someone gets hurt in the process
because isn't that what it means
to be human?
to be full of faults and falsehoods,
and at the very center of those
sits the certainty that at the core,
we are all irrevocably,
permanently,
unquestionably,  
alone

He poured the coffee
Into the cup
He put the milk
Into the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
Into the coffee with milk
With a small spoon
He churned
He drank the coffee
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He emptied the coffee with milk
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He lighted
One cigarette
He made circles
With the smoke
He shook off the ash
Into the ashtray
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
He got up
He put on
A hat on his head
He put on
A raincoat
Because it was raining
And he left
Into the rain
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
And I buried
My face in my hands
And I cried

I lay here every night
Talking to non-existent voices
And they always understand,

Sometimes they'd laugh along,
Other times they'd cry so long;
Sometimes they are really loud
Other times quietened by a shroud.

But sometimes I wish
There'd be this
Other bed with
Another girl or boy
Probably older than I
And he/she would be down there
Nodding or
Getting an anxious look on
The face

And when they hear me out,
They'd rush towards me and
Grab hold of me in their arms
Repeating over and over again
"It's okay, I'm here. It's over..."

And I would truly
Have felt warmth and love
And I'd really be able to have
A real shoulder
To cry on

And maybe, then I wouldn't have to
Pretend every day and every night
That I have this
Warm loving family in my head
And though they disagree quite often
They'd still stick together
No matter what

Maybe then
I wouldn't have to
Cry writing this poem
Just wishing
Once again
I had a

Somebody

paradise is the way
your eyelashes close together
like butterfly wings
as you whisper my name
through pillow lips,
your hand submerged in
my
mane.

i met a boy today

with warm hands

and his fingers bumbled as

they passed me my change.

i don’t think i’ll see

him again.

but that’s okay.