The kind of sobs that shake your entire body
And the kind of pain that starts in your soul
But slowly devours you.

The emptiness that is a dark void, extra space
Hollow and echoing
All around and all inside you.

Everywhere you look is someone happier
Someone more accomplished
Someone more full than you.

Pleasure is just a bridge to the next wide expanse of pain
To the next dense forest of loneliness
To the worst things that find you.

It cannot be expelled by light or laughter
Nor can it be warmly caressed into submission
Because it lives and thrives on you.

It was not your choice, none of it was
You would **** it if you could
You would go back to being you.

Strength comes not from blind bravery and knowledge
It comes from pain and suffering and sadness
That have bowed down to you.

Loneliness doesn't come from having no one around you
It comes from having no one truly with you
But it will never be stronger than you.

It's alright, it's alright, it's all wrong but alright
No one's got it all
But no one's here to save you.

here's what's going to happen.
we will sleep together
a few nights a week
for a few months.
we will talk on the phone
and our conversations will be
brief -- just to hear
each other's voice
at least once
every 36 hours.
we will get incredibly drunk
and we will believe
we miss each other
but we really won't
and we will believe
we are in love
and perhaps we are --
but after those months,
I will get used to
the crack in your voice
when you talk about
your family
and you will get used
to the way I cry
over films with
or without
happy endings.
your smile won't mean
as much
and there will be few
surprises
and love will have become
a habit -- and we won't
notice it anymore
even though it is
still there, sitting
at the coffee table
or between us in the bed.
we will amount
to nothing --
but I don't mind.