When I try to connect to another,
I quickly discover,
That our worlds couldn’t be more separate from each other.
It’s not that hard to uncover,
And it makes me wonder,
Are our lives just mindless inside our bubbles?

Overhearing conversations,
Is a fascinating endeavor,
One I would recommend.
Without interventions,
They’ll keep on talking forever,
Without an end.
You may start to understand,
That the world’s quite bigger,
Than we can wrap our heads around.
It may be hard to comprehend,
With all of the triggering,
Surrounding sounds.

I’m in a different atmosphere,
In my bubble,
Waiting to be discovered.
Not yet in the biosphere,
Of another,
That’s a journey on its own.
Watching my exosphere,
As people pass by like comets,
Without a second thought.
A dwarf planet,
Floating aimlessly,
Contemplating,
My atmosphere,
Slowly thinning.

Listening,
To people talk about their lives,
And their strifes,
Totally different all the time.
The pinnacle of misery for any given day to me,
Could be I got a paper cut that caused me to bleed.
But what do I hear occasionally when someone shares their lives?
“Hey, my dog just died…”
Fires off as loudly as a gun,
Breaking reality underneath my feet,
Questioning if they’re just looking for sympathy,
Or empathy,
To comfort them in their time of need.

Our problems can seem so large,
To us,
Yet, comparatively to another,
They’re so minute.
Some people feel like when they wake,
It’s another day just to lose,
While others add to their bruises,
Just what they needed.
Lack of consideration,
Or spatial awareness,
Contributing to,
All of our stress.

Perhaps people are vastly different than me,
On certain things,
For one, most got their driver’s license just as they turned sixteen,
But that wasn’t a personal priority,
I need to become less jittery, first,
One thing at a time.
Most people are far more social than I’ll ever be,
Probably my biggest insecurity,
Is whether I,
Talk too much or too little,
Say anything that’s worth the listen.
Some friends adore going out,
Scouring the town,
And spending time with each other,
And if you don’t, it’s hard to recover.
I want a friendship where the person understands the way I am,
Before the butterfly can fly it needs a suitable environment.

I’m in an alien atmosphere,
Hoping to be noticed,
Hurt when it doesn’t come to pass.
Dreaming about experiencing the biosphere,
Of others,
And making memories that last,
Many years.
Gazing at my exosphere,
As the comets fly past,
Knowing that I’ll find my way at last.
Space has a lot of space,
And statistically and certainly,
There’s a habitable planet for me.
So I can circle it like a moon does,
Form a meaningful bond,
As we both are assaulted by the sun.

Just have to wait,
A common theme of life,
I’ll quicken my sorrowful gait,
Because I want to see what lies in the light…

the words i wished
would come out
of my mouth
tumbled out like
luna moths
and died the
morning after

the roses you got me
on valentines day
at the bottom of
my wastebin
in ashes

i can trace the space
where you were
once hugging me

on a chilly saturday
evening, on a
walk i caught the
whiff of a lonely
cigarette

i can’t help to
be reminded
of you

now i gather your
sweaters in
a laundry basket
your cologne permeates
tears

so when i wash them
i am left wondering

where did your scent go?

I wish i can remove those feelings
I don’t want them not anymore
I don’t want to feel or even want you to feel my feelings
I’m better with my own
Alone in my little world
All alone

I never minded the quiet.
The way the walls never asked for anything,
the way the night didn’t need me to speak.
I could sit with my own silence,
breathe in the stillness,
and call it enough.

Then you showed up.
Not loud, not demanding--just there.
And suddenly, the silence wasn’t peaceful,
it was just empty.

I started waiting for your voice
before I even knew I was listening.
I started looking for you in rooms
I knew you wouldn’t be in.

And now, without you,
the quiet feels heavier.
Like it knows what it's missing.
Like it’s waiting, too.

You try your best, you really do-
To be the friend anyone can run to.
But, it seems you are just a spare,
And no one is there to care.

I watch them—talking, laughing, living—
as if the world were meant to be touched,
as if joy were something real, something graspable.
And I wonder, is it me who stands apart,
or have I simply woken to a truth they cannot see?

I try.
I speak, I smile, I step forward—
but the words taste foreign in my mouth,
the laughter sounds borrowed,
and every step feels like walking on ice
that will never hold my weight.

How strange it is, to yearn for closeness,
yet recoil from every outstretched hand.
To stand in a crowded room
and feel more alone than in the dead of night.

Perhaps there is a wall between me and them—
invisible, impenetrable.
Or perhaps the wall is me,
and there is no way out.

in the end of it
you are alone with it
and when the men stare at you
and ridicule you
their fingers pointing at your body

    you sit there and laugh
    your heart out
    i could
    take it out

        i chose to break the silence
        when no one had my back
        but the cold stone wall

           /stuck in headlights/

              your back to the wall
              to fight alone
              tonight is the night
              i end you

                 and no one understands
                 the depth of it
                 until they take my shoes
                 but they come to realize
                 they dont fit them

                    it ends tonight
                    with the morning light
                    a woman's grief
                    a fiery pit

You lie awake,
Late at night,
Heart quakes,
And constricts you tight.
You get a text on your phone,
From a friend that you know,
Your feelings of being alone disappear.
They ask you,
“Wanna hang out on Saturday?”
The beginning of your doom,
As your brain goes insane.
You question whether you should go,
Dream up excuses to keep you stuck at home,
Yet, you wonder why you feel so alone,
Nobody’s fault but your own.

It’s the crisis of connection,
Those nasty thoughts in your head,
That make you feel like you’re too boring,
For a meaningful friend,
So you keep the superficial ones,
Those that fade,
In a vain attempt to save you from the pain.

You say you feel alone,
Like no one cares,
Yet when they try,
You let your fears control,
And hold you back,
And you know,
That it’s wrong.
You push them away,
You’ll hurt them first before they deal the final blow to you,
You’ve experienced it before,
And you don’t want to feel that way again.
So you build your walls too high,
Where no one can save you,
Cause you trapped yourself inside.
You hope it’s not too late,
To make a window,
So you can see their faces,
And try to change your fate.

It’s the crisis of connection,
That keeps you standing back,
On the sidelines,
Too afraid to attack.
You assume,
Perhaps you were just meant to be alone,
So you stay home,
With your mental contusions.
You don’t know where to go.
So you just stand alone.

You’re not afraid,
To take the road less traveled,
You never fit in anyway,
So why bother?
Just do what you do,
And see where it takes you,
The road might be lonelier than most,
Just hold onto hope.

Perhaps the crisis of connection,
Won’t seem so severe,
In time.
Perhaps building strength,
And faith,
To make self-corrections,
Is the way,
To cross the finish line.
Perhaps the loneliness,
Is a testament to your strength,
Just don’t give up,
Though it may hurt,
I know,
We will find our way.

Are you waiting in vain
Are you waiting all the same
Are you waiting for someone to come
Are you waiting for someone to rescue you from what you’ve become
Does it matter anyway
You will remain the you that you became
They will love or not love you all the same
No one here to blame
Your life will end the same as it began….Alone
—Timothy Charles Carter