Feeling emptier than a dormant volcano. Watching the other mountains spit fire from their mouth's and their soul's. I'm crawling the earth as everyone is walking and learning to dance, and it isn't that I haven't heard that I could do it too; i've just never believed the mouths that said it.
While the trees sway and the humans nod at one another in unity and assurance, I'm a vacant city sleeping in empty dining halls and making families out of the rubble that lie at my feet, dreaming of the day something (anything) moves in.
Drones and explosives and graffiti. There's no one to blame. I'm alone as alone can be. I thought it could be a beautiful sadness (art), but it's just awful. Painful and dreary and lonely. The only eyes that see are mine and it's only monsters. I want someone here with me, you see, but I can't fathom hurting anyone but me.