Life’s like an old rose garden,
once blooming,
now withering.

Petals falling,
replaced by dry leaves,
wrapped in silence,
once so rare,
now so heavy.

I return home,
laughter ringing in ears.

But as the door shuts,
loneliness greets me,
like a cold, hazy mist,
or dark clouds that the stars resist.

I don’t want to be here

But I don’t want to go home



I want to have friends

But I want to be alone



I just want to be myself

But it’s me that I hate



They said to hold on

But that’s longer than I can wait

I solation is what kills me.
S o I scream for help—
O nly then, silence echoes louder.
L iving amongst false illusion alone,
A life in an empty home of a lonely heart.
T hroughout my time, I use this map.
I tried to find hope in the dark.
O f course—
N othing shows the path.

How do you grieve for the living?
Knowing that they live under the same sky?
See both the sun and stars shine?
Looks at the world differently than you do.

How do you grieve for those that have lost their way?
The ones that never wanted to stay?
Those that made homes out of your souls?
Those who slipped and fell?
The ones with their wings clipped?

There's an ache in your heart that makes it hollow.
Where that person used to be.
You walk the hallways of the house,
Reliving every memory.
Every hazy daydream.
Every Late-night conversation.
Every fight and fallout.

How do you continue on?
When pieces of themselves are scattered.
On the floor like a jigsaw puzzle.
Only you can't put the pieces back together again.

Each piece is a reminder of the way you laughed.
Each piece is a day you hold on to.
Each piece was a thought they had once.
Each piece is now a little bent and broken too.

How do you undo this kind of damage?
When it was never yours to fix in the first place.
How do you grieve for the living?
As their name gets stuck in your throat.
As you think you see them in strangers on street corners.
Capture a whiff of their scent.
The colour of their hair.
An outfit they would have picked.

Everybody talks about the dead with such respect.
What about those that have slipped through the cracks?
Became somebody nobody no longer wants to know.
With nobody to be there when they cried.
What happens to these lost souls?

Misfits?
Troublemakers?
Escape Artists?
Criminals?

All are just labels.
As you try to tear them off.
Showing society who they once were,

Nobody cares.
Nobody listens.
Nobody wants to know.
Nobody but you.
Can see their potential.

How do you continue living?
When you're not grieving for the dead?
But somebody else instead?

All alone.
Breathless and confused.
Looking at a photograph.
Of a person you once knew.

baby you should know I cry better when I’m alone –
and I don’t really like to have to long conversations on the phone,
if it means I don’t see you by tomorrow, and try to hold you close…

but maybe I’m just so good at being alone –
that any time I’m banking on potential love, it’s just a loan

living so low – the hopeless romantic,
and their romantic feelings sitting solo… even when
I’m fearful of love, it’s much scarier being so in love,
but in love all alone
               no one really wants to be alone

I feel so alone, I feel nonstop confusion
Everyday I am spiraling, feeling like a nonstop delusion
I don’t know who I am anymore
There is a million different choices in life yet I can’t find the right door
I don’t know who I want to be
I want something that makes me feel like me

Do I want to be a teacher and educate our youth?
I feel forced into this position, no matter how hard I hide the truth
Do I want to be a writer and write stories that people will remember?
I love to write but it is not a dream that ignites like an ember
Do I want to be a photographer that takes photos people will cherish?
I feel like every photo I take is always doomed to perish
Do I want to design games that people will love to play
People tell me that my hobbies are only hobbies, no matter what I say
Do I want to teach English and help children learn to read and write?
I’m skilled at what I do yet I feel I fail when I try with all my might

I feel so alone and I don’t know what to do
I write out my feelings in some way to connect to you
I know nobody will read this but I have to get it out
People never seem to listen no matter how hard I shout
How do they expect me to choose when I am only 19
I have such a hard time, all I want is to be remembered and seen
Everyone else knows what they want to do
Yet I haven't a clue, I don’t know what is false and what is true