The orchestra of the night
plays in the background.
Sweet rhythms
and soft melodies
fill the dead air space
in this empty room.

The words shape shift
Into the silhouette of your body
moving around
in the room where you once were.

The soft violins, violas, and basses
mimic the tones of your voice.
The sound waves
do a poor job at replacing your touch.

The musicians
sit in the chair
you once sat in.

The conductor
embraces his performance
much like you embraced me,
before the room was empty.

The world is Hypocritical.
And we know it to be true,
Yet we whine and complain
When we end up with the short straw.
As a society we are so consumed
In the thoughts that please
Our immediate wants, and greed.
We do not care about the outcome=
The long term effects-
No- we care about us.
We care about our children, our families and pets
Not about our neighbors, co-workers,
Or the homeless person you pass everyday.
We want people to feed the world and
The children who are starving,
Yet we don’t want to give the food ourselves,
We want to help the environment,
Yet we sit for hours in Chicago traffic twice a day.
We want to say we put our families first,
Yet we work 9-5 with overtime.
We want all of these things,
But only if they are free.

Look at the faces around you,
What do you see?
Happiness, sadness, joy?
These faces are shrouded
By the masks of their possessors.
We all ware them, everywhere we go.
Life is one fantastic Masquerade,
But its time For you to see the true identity
Of your dancing partner.
But wouldn't that take away the novelty-
Of what the mask stands for?
The unknown-the thrill-the mystery-
Take the novelty of you and me?

A whiskey lullaby plays on the radio
And I'm sitting in the front seat.
Of a truck
Windows down
And wind invading my space.
And   then there is you.
This song
Makes me think of you.
This feeling
Makes me miss you
These tears
Are for you
But this anger
Is for not understanding you.
Is for not understanding your motives
And I remember
The whiskey in my room.
I remember my past.
The liquor cabinet
I created under my bed
To calm me down,
To help me with life,
Whiskey *** and *****,
Depression
And steel got me through
A very similar situation.
Nothing helped you
Except for that 18 wheeler
That made it all go away
That took you
To a place of no return

I hate this
Cage
This
Prison
I thought I broke out of.

I hate this
Feeling
This
Apathy
I have for the world

I hate this
Never ending
Sickness
That has dictated my brain.

I hate this
Life.
This
Place.
That I have trapped myself in.

I hate being
So different
That
I go unnoticed.

I hate being
Pushed aside
Because
Of the gem that is my sister

I hate being
Pushed down
Because
I speak out.

I hate being
The villain
When the world
Wants heroes

I hate
Smiling
Because
It seems like there's no reason to.

I hate
Sitting down
When I should be
Standing.

I hate
Mostly everything
Because
I just don’t see the point
In accepting

Anything less than perfect.

Another minute
Hour
Day
Week
Month
Year
A­nother
Struggle
Frustration
Sacrifice
Hurt.
Another
Impossible problem
Impossible emotion
Impossible thought.
Another night.
To stay awake
To think the time away
To look in the mirror
And think..
About life, love, loss.
About, yourself and what you hate.
The way you walk
Your size
Your lack of talent
Your intelligence
Your instability
Your dependence
Your marks
Your personality
Your experiences
Your eyes
Your hair
Your nose, ears, neck, face
Your body.
Another night to think of your failures
Math, you hate math
Parents, you’ve failed them, and they don’t even know
Your friends for things you don’t tell
Your self, for not caring
Choices, that should have never been made.
Your teachers for not doing your best
Or your best not being good enough
The one you love, for ******* up
Another night to feel numb
From feeling
Love
Happy
Free
Kind
Satisfied, with yourself and life
Because of
Sadness
Depression
Anxiety
­ Expired addictions, you'd hate to get rid of
Self medication.
Another night to stop and think
About how you’ve ****** up
And how no one has seemed to notice.

About how you have fallen down,
Been ripped apart,
Ripped open and left to bleed,

And no ones has seemed to notice.

We were ghosts-

souls departed from an alive world,

wandering among the living

longing to have their flesh

their color

their pulse

their life.



We were ghosts-

living in a nocturnal eternity

living in a world

where we went unseen



We were ghosts-

we had no foot prints

we had no voice

we had a soul



We were ghosts-

but now we live.

Why was I given this bitter sweet beauty
Of life
Of pain
And of happiness

Why was I given this bitter sweet beauty
Of a memory so keen
It lets me forgive
When she couldn’t forget?

Why was I given this bitter sweet beauty
Of moving forward
Of healing,
When her life stopped?

Why was I given this bitter sweet beauty
Of seeing the other side
When she was caged in
Trapped by darkness.

Why was I given this bitter sweet beauty
Of a chance
Of acceptance
When she carried the weight around on her shoulders?

Why was I given this bitter sweet beauty
When she had to fight for every second?