I enjoy the solitude
The drawn curtain, being alone

I don't need a friend
Unless the shadows count

I can smile, have a conversation
with myself

A guitar in my lap
A song in my head

I enjoy the solitude

"You are pretty"
Don't lie
"Thanks"

"You are smart"
Yeah right liar
"Thanks"

"You are nice"
More lies?
"Thanks"

"You're fun to talk with"
Liar liar pants on fire
"Thanks"

"You're amazing"
Goodbye
"..."

I remembered something today.
Something I forgot,
During the march of time.
In the race to here.

I remembered something today.
Something you once said,
During that long summer, 2001
Way back there.

I remembered something today,
Something beyond recall.
During the madness of my fog,
In here somewhere.

I remembered something today,
Something I buried.
During the years in between,
Deep down inside.

I remembered something today.
Something I'll never forget,
During the wee small hours,
Inside the dark night.

732 poems later and the only conversation we've had was on the weather

i do not believe in holding things in.

that is how bottled messages collect on deserted beaches,

how unaddressed letters begin filling desk drawers,

how unanswered questions spill over into one word midnight conversations.

communication was created for a reason,

verbal expression and languages formed in order to allow humans to connect.

when did words become so disconnected,

a way to fill space, a burden, something that has to be done.

when did silence become louder than heated debates,

texts become more crucial than ‘working it out’ over coffee,

media posts become more legitimized than countless apologies for the same god ****** thing over and over again.

who taught us to swallow our inner conflicts and emotions?

who said expression was weak and suppression was strong?

who taped our mouths and allowed our finger tips to take over,

a society of silence and screens?

i'm sick of having to initiate conversations
i'm sick of sending a 'hi' only to get a 'yeah im fine.'
i mean, i don't really mind that you don't care to reply
even a short little "and you?" or "how's your life?"
but, for god's sake, stop killing conversations
i'm the patron saint
of small talk and copper coins
biting lips and stretching for questions
that you won't bother to return the favor for.

i'm sick of initiating conversations,
of second-guessing and wondering
just exactly how annoying i must be,
constantly
sending you updates on what i'm thinking
but when you haven't been replying
it gets me hesitating.
i'm predictable at best
and i'm starting to think that you're discovering
how jaded being with me makes you feel.
i'm the same old story
the same old small talk
the patron saint of lying and faking
it.

i'm sick of losing friends
because my insecurities stop me from speaking
and they have too many other people to be seeing
to even worry about checking in on li'l ol' me.
i'm sick of stuttering my way through
conversations with people who don't give me
anything to say
how am i supposed to answer you
when you refuse to give me more than 3 words about your day?

thanks for the update,
three years late when
i'm finding out all the great things you've been doing
but i'm still the same
the patron saint of small talk again
stuck watching life happening
from behind my screen
maybe that's the real problem i've been having

everyone else is living
and i'm decomposing
i don't have the courage to step outside my home
but god, oh god, i'm sick of being stuck alone

Why do the most truthfully heartfelt
statements begin with, "I know it's silly, but..."

No. Stomach your apologies so that
the rest of you won't remain
undiscovered. You're a map made of
resignation
with feelings about yourself more
tangled than yarn woven in and around
all your bones.

I want to make brutal honesty the new
fad. Have everyone fall in love with boldness
in words
so that it becomes
therapeutic to hand out paper keys during
conversations
to unlock someone's heart.

Scream out at the top of your lungs,
I WAS A FAKER TILL NOW
and smile
because you know you've never spoken
truer words
and because
nobody knows it.

Honesty has now become your
secret, and it will be the lightest
load you've ever had to bare.

You say you spent two years sleep-
walking all around here,
past convenience stores and dead ends.
Steering blind while the suburbs blurred,
your sneering eyes grew tired
like my slurring verbage

                                           Now with our words just circling 'round
                                           we'll shout right into the drain
                                           blaming newer faults on old targets...
                                            
         ­                                               And I can only say...

That you won't see me
playing Kings & Creeps
when the whiskey's gone
and this here card game's out of reach.
When the fingers point, it's nothing doing,
stated bluntly.
We're saying nothing again.

Now I've been eating crow with
a side of consternation
through a swelling, allergic throat.
Choking down all my dumbest thoughts.
My token frown flips up
when your smile turns caustic.

                                             And with the tension boiling down,
                                             bubbling up from our heads,
                                             we'll pour it out on old targets...

                                             It seems we've spilled again...

But you don't hear me
crying, "Kings & Creeps"
when the music dies
and we stand, staring at our feet.
With an unhinged jaw, even a snake can
swallow some things--
digest them back in the den.

We're saying nothing again.