I enjoy her
But to what avail
To string her along
With heartfelt sadness
So she could be near
And I won't be lost
But depression she owns and
Her happiness I collect on

She sighs and
everything is okay
With the world

The way she
Looks at me makes me
Feel like dawn

I don't know
what it means when you
say to us

I would like to go home to a hollow house
But there's always some sound there
And it's not the books
It's the everything else
The humans
And their lives
Screaming out to be heard
But to what avail

I find my time
With the
People I want to spend the lesser of my time
with
Undeniably so
Spinning loose thoughts and phrases
That cultivate nothingness
Why am I here
I ask
But
There is no answer
Only people

I wonder
If you read me
For the drunk
Or the resourceful
Or the remorseful
Or cause somewhere in my broken English
There was a prize to be found
But there is nothing here
I wouldn't say