The American dream
The long march
Men Sitting in office parks
waiting
listening to the droning sound of a fan
Doing whatever work
Plops in there lap
With no question
As to why
Men driving nails
into concrete
Into wood
in the distance they can hear
the feint sound of an impact drill
they question themself silently
2 no, maybe 3 floors up?
Backhoes of dirt
Back and forth
Being ran by a detached man longing
For his son
and wife
The starving beggar
Passed by everyone on the street
Yet persists hoping to get enough
For his next meal
or his next drink
and im supposed to see this and join in?
and im expected to do this till i die? ha
If this is the american dream
Let me wake up

Wait..wait.. wait..
Who's in these shoes?
Wait .. weight..? wait!!
I feel my sole ripping

Weight?  Weight!? Wait....
A stranger behind the wheel
Wait.. Wait! No Wait!
He's caused all this pain I feel

The wait for this weights extinction
Has rot the strength to stand straight
Only to question if the weight is fiction
Or is it that I just have to wait to feel great

Grabbing that wheel can be hard at times
So some choose to fly auto pilot style
Closing their eyes and failing at their primes
Crashing when the auto pilot style dies

Was it the weight? Or the wait?
Who's to say?
We all wait for the weight of Death's arrival day

Can’t you see me crying?
Flames gnawing at my skin?
Can’t you hear my belting cries
Deep from the underbelly,
From the darkest depths within?

How much longer must you hide from
That which you’re not willing to address?
You put on a mask in your own home,
You cannot see what is amiss.
Must I spell it out for you?
Must I make it painfully clear that I am suffering?
Baffled by the change in behaviour,
You point the finger at me and say
I am to blame!
Is there no introspection on your part?
No patience when asking questions?
No curiosity when seeing my pain?
No time. No time at all.
No proof to hold,
My struggle must be in vain.

Nothing.
I get nothing from you.
No warmth.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
So cold, cruel, callous.
I cry I cry
I make puddles, pools,
Still you won’t believe me.

Do you still not know
Who I am after all these years?
Was it my fault for not telling you
Or for you never asking?
Did I deceive you because
I was reserved?
Did it ever occur to you that
I could be suffering in silence?
Yet let me ask again
Do you still not know me after all these years?
What am I to you
Who am I to you
What do I seem like to you?
Because you are baffled by my reaction
To your cold shoulder
Your blunt response
Telling me to deal with it
On my own
Like I’ve always done.
And I don’t know
If you can see
What it is you’re doing
But you’re making this
So much harder for me.
And I wonder
Do you still not know
Who I am after all these years?
And yet these tears
These familiar tears
Glide on my cheeks
Reminding me that I’ve always been
Deeply lonely.
Deeply.
And when I make a noise
It’s like no one listens
It’s like I’m in a dream
And you’re all in a daze,
And I’m not sure
If it was me who dug this
Deep dark grave.

When the shadows become long and slim
Stretching over the lawn in the park
I know change of season has arrived
It accentuates the loneliness
Sadness has arrived
Like a black dog on my doorstep
Winter is near
This time will be different I think
This time I'll be strong
But am I
Or do I simply surrender to that loneliness
Outside the winter sun is alive and well
Inside my home, the smell of lavender
I guess the housekeeper must have polished the floors
I hear the cry of a bird flying overhead  
Take me with you I scream
Yet my lips have not moved
I've missed the opportunity I think
Part of me angry, part of me doesn't care
But still the shadows are there
Accompanied by a stillness in the air
And how does one hibernate when forced to live

How do I explain this feeling of emptiness
Which is as thick as a blanket around me
How do I explain this strong urge to cry
To weep and wail like the world has ended
And curl up like a ball behind my sofa
And silently wish for death to come claim me

and then i realized
only medication or temporary rushes from substances would relieve the pain
the pain of living,
the suffocation of being trapped in a body i feel like i don't belong in
the never ending cycle of anxiety

and so i cried
and i cried so hard until i couldn't breathe
knowing there would never truly be an escape to this thing called life