Lonely isn't the feeling when you're all alone,
In an empty room,
Or sitting in the darkness.
Lonely is when you're with many people,
Walking along a chaotic road,
Surrounded by noisy human,
But you feel like you're all alone.

I come in
standard white girl voice....
but no mine is to deep
"Im sooooo drunk"
Like tell everyone everthing drunk
Too much tequila drunk
Ill talk about my exes and my boyfriend drunk
Glad my roomates are good guys drunk ,
Want to see you drunk
Miss you drunk
Knowing how to pick my poison drunk
Head hung and bleary eyed
Probably have a problem
But im quitting on the new year....
Until st patties day
Im a writer and i need a new bottle of gin drunk.

When I look back at the things I had
The things that now are gone
I was planting seeds of division
But the trees grew tall and strong

I used to see for miles around
But now the forest grows
Beneath the shade of branches
Are secrets no one knows

At first it was a place to hide
An oasis on barren lands
But holding on to a past that's gone
Was just leaving time on my hands

For years I must have wandered
Abandoning all that was good
I thought I knew my way out
But now I'm lost in the woods

Why is it that I never seem
To be able to verbalize
The things I feel, the things I see
Why must that action tantalize?

I know how I feel, in every specific way
I know how I see the world fit together
But somehow I'm never able to say
How I think or feel to another

It's all so clear inside my brain
I know how I see and how I feel
But explaining it makes me feel insane
Because I don't have the words for my zeal

It's all so precise and obvious to my mind
But it's always hell to explain
Because I start speaking only to find
That my lack of clarity is near to pain

What seems so solid and crystal clear
In the space between my ears
Falls apart outside my mouth
Because my words' ambiguity drives it south

Intimidatingly alluring, that is what you are.
I cannot keep my awkwardness from stirring,
As I try to be smooth whilist my thoughts are still churning.
I keep messing up the words, from my mouth that come out.

You're even more fine, than the best dwarven stout,
With an essence of strength, though you keep yourself at length.
Even without a stash of memories, of you, in my mind;
Thoughts of you still cross, I find.
This is but a simple note to entwine your mind with rhyme,
I find you sublime, and I think you're divine.

2 hours 10 minutes to Christmas.
I couldn't care less.

The magic died in my childhood.

Now its a way for emotional sentiment
That pushes mass consumerism

"Buy your gifts and buy your toys
From here its the best"

Christmas is coming

But I...

Couldn't care less.