i don't want to talk about it to
the people who want to know.
i want to talk about it to
the people who don't have to know,
but don't mind anyway.

i want to tell you, actually.

about when i was too lonely
to know what i was doing.
when my no was not firm enough,
was not said often enough.
so they played me,
and i don't blame them.
i was so vulnerable.
so easy to take advantage of.
why not?
i was disposable, useable only for a moment of pleasure.
and it really hurt,
but i just sat there.
and took it.

and now look at me-
fighting flashbacks when a classmate makes a joke about the four letter R word.
crying for no reason.

There I lie, broken inside, a shell of a man with tear-
Stained eyes. All hope was just a flicker of light, gone-
As quickly as I cried. Finding out the truth wasn't a-
Relief, I think more of myself than I want to please. It-
Isn't hard to believe, that I curse myself not knowing-
What to believe. What right do I have to sit randomly
By, watching the world in full steam reaching out to-
Me, and all I want to do is scream.

I'm alone, another night
Not another soul in sight
My attempts to reach out
Ignored by you and those around
These nights are growing
And there's cold things abound
And what I want can't be found
I want a warm somebody
As the snow falls to the ground
Really, just anybody
Here to hold or be held
But instead, there's nobody
Just the trio of these winter nights
Me, misery, and loneliness
Always to be found

We are born time travelers,
Constantly drifting away,
Across a vast sea,
Of Time and Change.

We are resilient,
Taking every action to reach,
Across the Great Divide,
To shake hands with tradition.

We are restless,
Dreaming endlessly of somewhere else,
Sometime else,
To fill ourselves.

We are loyal,
Seeking truth in the lies,
We were told in lives before,
To question everything.

We are joyful,
Calling vinyl records and pipes our friends,
As we clench supercomputers and earbuds,
To drown out the sound of progress.

We are unsatisfied,
Claiming a lot in life that has passed away,
We stare at the past and genuflect
To respect the places we will never be.

885

Our little Kinsmen—after Rain
In plenty may be seen,
A Pink and Pulpy multitude
The tepid Ground upon.

A needless life, it seemed to me
Until a little Bird
As to a Hospitality
Advanced and breakfasted.

As I of He, so God of Me
I pondered, may have judged,
And left the little Angle Worm
With Modesties enlarged.

I'm fed up with life,
but I'm too scared to die.
How many times I tried?
How many times I missed?

How could I thought you are
the person of my dreams?
I put you on pedestal,
how stupid was that of me?

I just wanted you to know,
that you are the right for me,
but you never showed
any affection to me.

You used me, abused me,
made me play your game.
You knew if you lose me,
I'll never be the same.

You drained me all this time,
until there was nothing left inside,
then filled me with your lies,
until I'm crying when I smile.