Dear Diary;
It's the last day
of the year and I
think I will burst into tears
for having held them in
all year.

Dear diary;
I find myself either
staying home and
wishing I had gone out or
going out and
wishing I had stayed home-
there is no in between.

Dear diary;
it has taken me
far too long to realize that
my biggest obstacle in life
is me, always has been,
and that hurts more than anyone ever could.
Wherever I go, whatever I do,
my shadow will follow me around-
a subtle reminder of my
mistakes, regrets and reminders
of who I used to be.
Yes, I now realize that no one
is as guilty as me when
it comes to me.

Dear diary;
Tonight,
I will once again
return to the shadows,
to hollowness and emptiness,
to nothingness.
Oh, the joy of losing myself
in the darkness of space and time,
the joy of being no one and nothing
for another night.

Dear diary;
at the end of the day,
I have no one to blame but myself
for this wall I have built
to keep everyone else
out.

Dear diary;
I hate to admit that
I am still dependent on
feelings I promised myself I
would no longer feel and
now I punish myself
for it.

Dear diary;
I think I am starting
to believe in love again.
Each crush feels like the first time
and each kiss melts this heart-
the same stone heart I thought
would never crack again.
Indeed, I think I am ready
for love to destroy me
again.

Dear diary;
Once again,
I am shutting myself away
to give myself a chance to heal.
I find nothing but pain and sorrow
outside these walls that
have served me well
too many times
before.

Dear diary;
The sorrow comes in waves
and today I am
the sea.

Dear diary;
Today,
I feel alive.
so much so that
my demons are
laughing with me.

Dear diary;
Too often I subtract
myself from the world
only to realize that it would
not be much of a loss nor
would the world notice
such a loss.

Dear Diary;
I met a girl last night
and I saw a goddess in her eyes.
Can you believe it?
I met a *******
goddess.

Dear diary;
on one hand,
I hate being so alone
and on the other,
I have never felt more alone
than I do among others.
What sort of cruel paradox is this?
Perhaps I cannot connect
to anyone, let alone,
myself.

Dear diary;
I have always felt
like an inconvenience.
Perhaps that is why I flee
before I am made
aware of it.

Dear diary;
I have always felt this disconnection
with the rest of the world, with society,
but that is nothing new.
I thought I would have overcome it by now,
but sadly, that is not the case.
It has lingered over me for as long
as I can remember and I have never
felt more alone than right now.
This alienation to everyone I meet,
who have loved me and those I loved
leaves me with an inescapable shame.
I still have not found myself
and I don't think I ever will.

Dear Diary;
for far too long
you made me believe that
if I was not good enough for you
than I must not be good enough
for anyone else in
this world.

Dear diary;
I do not feel-
no, I do not feel anymore.
Sometimes I can feel my heartbeat,
or a lonely butterfly in this stomach
but that pales in comparison to
when I used to feel alive,
to feel any hope at all.

Dear diary;
I cannot handle my mind anymore.
The world is moving too fast
and the thoughts keep racing.
Society is foreign to me as they are cruel,
and I cannot handle them anymore.

Dear diary;
I am growing tired of this mind,
tired of overthinking, of the endless cycle.
"When will this day end? This week, this month, this year?"
I grow tired of society and their norms and expectations.
I want to enjoy life again, to be free, not just endure,
to go through the motions again and again.
I try to savor the good times like a rose,
to smell it, and see it in all its beauty,
until it withers away.
Indeed, I am tired of this winter,
and all the dreariness it brings.
I want to live.

Dear diary;
I am still learning to
let go of that of which I
have no control over or that
remains in the past.
Some days are harder than others
to accept things the way they are
and not the way I had hoped
they could be.

It is true that
I have never been
an excitable person.
Even when it comes to
celebrations, birthdays,
and even my own, I find it
hard to muster up the joy.
Perhaps I wasn't given the
social battery required to spark
enough excitement for those
day-to-day activities and achievements
but that is fine by me.

Dear diary;
I find myself drained
at even the little things.
The chores, the socializing,
the emotions and the obligations.
It is no wonder I am exhausted
at the end of the day just
trying to survive.

There are some nights
where I would rather
fight anything other
than my own
thoughts.

Dear Diary;
this year already
tastes like last year
and I can see the
rot ahead.

Dear Diary;
now that the dust has settled
I have realized that
all I want to do is
work,
travel,
work,
travel
to distract myself
from the joke that is my life

Dear diary;
Today I came to
the realization that
I can probably count on one hand
the people who know anything
about me in real life.
If you are reading this,
I doubt you're
one of them.

Dear diary;
my life is far
from normal
but not so strange that I
should fear what
lies ahead.

Dear diary;
there's a musical riot
erupting in my
chest tonight.
My ribs echo
with the sounds of
chaos and harmony.

Dear diary;
I have thought a lot
about leaving this all behind
and buying a one-way ticket
to anywhere where no one
knows my name.
I want to forget who I am
and lose myself
in another's culture.
I want to stay until I tire
and do it all again
somewhere else.

Another lover
has swept you off your feet
and now I look back
and wonder if I
even made you
or your heart
skip at all

I worry that maybe
you are not the same person
I perceived you to be.
Maybe you are different,
or maybe you deceived me
like all the ones before.

You and I
are different people now.
Maybe if we met again
it would be like meeting
for the first time
all over again.

You take the dirt
of this life and
turn it into
sunflowers.

One day you said
your last goodbye
and we turned away.
We just disappeared
from each other's world
and that was that.

A life
is not a life if
it has to be disguised.

I am too
many tragedies
disguised as a man with
too many wounds
disguised as
memories.

Maybe I'll disappear.
Maybe I'll find
peace of mind or
lose my mind.

It always
ends the same-
you found someone,
you turn away and
just like that,
the magic
is gone.

My memories are
like dissonant wind chimes-
they shriek every time
my mind's winds blow.
Those familiar tunes still haunt me
and to this day they remain
stuck in my head.

So much distance,
but not between our hearts.
So cold is the night,
but so warm are the memories
we share forever.

Are you
as tired of
this distance
between us
as I am?

We are not the same person
as we were yesterday.
Today we believe in this,
and tomorrow we believe in that.
Yesterday is a distant dream and
today I'm only waking up.

what actually were we
other than two broken hearts,
and two lost souls?
A sense of passion, yet only for an instant,
leading to an everlasting
feeling of torment.
Our distant dreams of romance
never quite turned into a reality
without even a daydream of hope.

Being happy and
being distracted from sadness
are not the same thing.

It's a dog eat dog world, baby,
and I simply found myself
at the bottom of your
food chain.

Am I any good for you anymore?
Do my words still make you smile?
Do you still dread my goodbyes?
or have they lost all meaning?

Tomorrow
is tomorrow
is tomorrow
is tomorrow-
if only i could
become unstuck.

Do not give up hope just yet,
you have still not met all of
the people who will love you.

It’s important
not to take these things personally.
Sometimes people hate you
through no fault of your own.
And sometimes people push you away
just because they’re afraid of what
will happen if you get too close.
And sometimes people leave
because they came to realize
that you weren't right for them
before you could realize that
they weren't right for you.
And that's okay because
not everybody can
love you.

Are you drifting from me?
Or am I drifting from you?
The seas are against us and I fear
I will soon be a dot on your horizon,
the same dot at the end of a question mark
that may be forever left unanswered.