I'll do something stupid, like fall in love with you and stuff
Until one day you realize that it wont be enough
I wont be enough for you.
And I will cry and tear apart my room.
And the dark days will begin to loom.
And I will begin to lose myself in this mentality to.
The boy who waved the boats from shore
had still never set sail,
but he was lonely.
One day or morning,
Aa sailor's sunrise,
a girl approached the boy on the pier.
It was a long walk
and they could see each other
on each side, approaching.
They watched each other,
each studying the other,
as if other could learn about each
before even speaking.
Eventually, she arrived,
and they looked at each other again,
faces full of curiosity.
"What are you doing?"
asked her eyes.
"What's it to you?"
"Well," she blinked,
"You seem all alone here.
Boats leave, but you do not."
She communicated across a short sea
of rotting, sun-dried boards
The boy said nothing>
Instead he cocked his head
and flicked a smile
from the corner of his lips
across the metre-long lake of boards.
She asked him after a pause,
"I've nothing to do,
may I please sit on the dock with you?"
The boy nodded warmly,
and they sat,
fewer boards between them than before.
She pulled off her shoes,
her socks too, pink and blues,
and dipped her toes
in the water she knew was cold.
They spoke very little,
but they would inevitably fall in love.
crying to this world
Everyone leaves quietly
from this world
However, true loneliness,
only ever comes and goes,
when one’s heart is broken
at least once,
for falling in or out of love;
And if you never felt neither one,
You have never been alone!
As I cross this road of dreams and nightmares, I open my eyes.
Filled with sweet goodbyes and sorrowful errs, I leave my abode
I began to code fake smiles and laughters, then I start my sighs.
I began to cry, I began to curse, I then sang an ode.
I then hurried back in my solitude, I have found solace.
Joyful yet soulless, I gave gratitude as my own attack.
I was set aback by beatitudes gone without a trace.
I tried to save face, hide my attitude, deleting my tact.
Buried in my soul a desire untold to die all alone.
So I could condone my death as foretold in ash and coal.
It was my own goal since the times of old to hush my own tone.
As blinding lights shone a path of the cold as death takes its toll.
Lost in the deepest part of darkness,
I have come upon the most monstrous, appalling creatures ever existed;
a noxious realm encompassed of fiendish howls and growls from the bravest of all kinds
From where I unravel the garment of fraudulent sophistication—a sweet taste of liberty
From where I diverge from the twisted notions of the tainted society
This is the domain of my very own.
This is my home...
I don't know what you see in "her"
You ask me to come over at 1 am
I go cause it feels familiar
But every time it ends
I say I'm never coming back again
Now it feels wrong
You say, "it's okay"
But I'm slowly becoming a ticking time bomb
And I really don't want to stay
Too many lies, and I cry
Cause with you I feel numb
I've never felt so dumb
In your arms
While there's alarms
Ringing in my head
Reminding me that I should leave instead
But I wait and wait till I'm kicked out
And theres something I hate about you without a doubt
So why do I keep doing this to myself
While you're out I'm avoiding everyone else
I don't understand anything anymore
I'm always left hurt mentally, emotionally, and physically sore
Maybe I'll know
When I finally have the courage to let you go
An extremely intelligent man with hordes and hordes of books; books upon books upon shelves – oh, endless shelves. Whatever the matter of his genius abilities, he is rather, let's say, naive. He often spends nights alone in the comforts of his dark den with nothing but his prizes to keep him company. Oh Jonathan, you lonely man: what is to become of your vast capabilities?
Will you build planes like you had as a child and flaunt them to your parents proudly? Will you remain alone in your den – a room full of endless, lonely, dark, and quiet company – surrounded by your hordes of books and shelves? Full, but empty, shelves … Each space occupied by a semblance of papers … and more books.
In her sadness she trod weary along the road .
Not knowing where to go
Or what she should do.
Time wasn't on her side.
The darkness besotted her
She hid from her searing pain
She felt alone
That no-one could possibly empathize.
She was the worst enemy of her soul.