A broken home
A shattered family
A drifting soul
I'm lost in the journey

The shifting
The changing
The non-balance
I'm focused on the solution

My answer
My resolution
My damnation
I'm just waiting on Fate

There is ice
on the pavement
and the wind hasn't stopped for a week.

The sky is dim
and polluted
and our cigarettes shine brighter
than the stars do.

You enter
and you are wild flowers
in a town that has only
ever known the colour
grey.

Others are just funeral cars
passing by,
whilst you are full-blown technicolour
in this void.

You look my way
and approach me.
The stars shine
more brightly tonight.

Everyone's entitled to their own opinion.
And mine is this.

The loneliest moment is when you're sitting on your bed crying and you scroll through your contacts but end up putting your pone down in the end and not contacting anyone. Because 90% don't care at all, 9% are just curious, and that 1% left over. Well, they're starting to pull away too

**This is true loneliness

I lay back and run my fingers over my skin,
tiny travelers roaming over hills and plains,
ridges and crevices.
There are cracks and tears, the scars upon this terrain shall not heal.
They are the reminders and the tale tellers,
reciting stories of battles lost and loves won.
Will these blemishes deter the common traveler,
proving to be too complex for their
short-lived trail making?
Or is there a hidden beauty to these detours,
a mystery that attracts the adventurous and the brave?
Is it any less than other pathways?
Perhaps it has a hint of wildness to it,
a bit more tree roots to stumble upon
and branches to push back...
I turn over and wrap my arms around myself.
This is my land, with many stories and many battles lost.
Tread carefully, dear traveler.

All I want is to stay
with someone I love and rely on
under a tree
have a cigarette
As serenity fills the scene
and it feels like movie scene
We have faded in our own world
Faded like the colors in the polaroid camera
and this doesn't have to rhyme
cause it's mine
my perfect world

She reads
                                          And she sleeps
                                                      Way too much
                                                            ­           It's her coping defence
                                                                ­               When nothing else will suffice
                                                         ­               She needs to get away
                                                       Without actually leaving
                                             Because she's too scared
                                   And too tired
                                            To leave her bed
                                                      So she cracks open a book
                                                            ­     To escape somewhere far away
                                                            ­             And she'll sob for the characters
                                                      ­                       Whose brokenness resembles hers
                                                            ­                                   And then she'll sleep
                                                           ­                                   And have sweet dreams
                                                          ­              Of realities that are not her own
                                                       Because pretending is so much easier
                                                 Than facing reality
                             So she'll sleep and dream
          And secretly wish she won't wake up
So she can finally escape