When I walk alone and by myself
for a day or two or perhaps a minute,
nothing makes sense and everything does,
and I want to write without words
and love myself while hating me, too,
and prove to you the world is ours
or maybe just yours
when all is paved in pain
like some puzzle missing pieces vital.
But only when I walk alone.

When I have to be with you
for an entire day or a few minutes,
it all makes sense and it doesn't
and I want to talk in silence
and be your friend and maybe more
and prove virility while wrestling the lions
or just by simply holding you
when the tears fall from your eyes
like the blood from one thousand wounds
but only when I have to be with you.

Im supposed to be your friend.
I'm horrible, appalling, horendous.
I'm terrible for liking the boy you're in love with.
I should be shunned, hung, overall hated.
Sniffle I hate myself.

Deep beneath the seething sea,
Before you, before me,
A war is fought so far from shore,
For life, for existence, wholeheartedly.

Each creature fights in its own way,
With speed, or numbers, predator or prey,
They fight so hard through day and night,
To survive, to prosper, to stay.

But what is it worth?
Time watches with mirth,
As they leave there mark in defiance.

So each niche is found,
The variety unbound,
A war of grand alliance.

The kids came along and took my house,
they took it brick by brick.
They left me my bed,
and upon my head
A message that just read “*****”.