A boss claims to be

caring, but he is a child --


that always wants more.

aside from my asides and internal divides
I stand in my prime, converging with the divine
plucking daisies in my backyard
doing backflips in my backyard
tired of trying to find gold in a scrapyard
denied due to pride and internal divides
he stands in his shame, colliding with the divine
doing abstract art and failing to put a finger on
the very thing converging all along
the growth not seen, he daydreams
but can never put it into action
stagnant dissatisfaction

Hello again
nagging dissatisfaction
diminish me again
corrupt everything
with your whispers of truth.

Loneliness was never an emotion for me. It was more of... a state of being. Family was always a disappointment, friends were none existent, and what’s a stranger gonna do? I never lived in a life where I felt anything besides lonely that is... until I met you. You were a rose that couldn’t see the beauty of it’s petals, I guess we were alike in that since, because in your eyes I was the perfect women, where in my eyes I was a waste of space.  We spent days, weeks, even months together. I grew to love you and you? You learned that two people could be lonely together. But as my life shows, everything is temporary. And the words “I love you” where just a distant memory.

Where I am
                Where I stand
                Dissatisfaction,
                My daily song.
                Dissatisfaction,
                My present emotion.
                I am no longer burning with passion
                I long for more beauty
                The vanity I seek,
                What a fair one I know.
                My latest predicament,
                A longing for better times.
                I crave for something better
                I want a new flame
                In this spring of discontent
               A float of an invisible,
               Yet having springs of a vague tomorrow.

Here,
Here I am.
I’ve always wanted to be
Here.
But not for long.

Talent is relative,
And mine is falling.

So I’ll be sent back,
Into confused arms.
They will welcome the love,
Though they will not understand it.
Why am I there?
Why am I not here?

I will try to fit in.
Return to my group of youth,
Look to find it and see it gone,
Remnants scattered everywhere I can see.

I will look for open arms,
That closed for me a long time ago.
And once I am alone again,
Which way will my mind go?

Wandering through mixed messages,
Solace will be found,
Buried,
In greying memories of me there,
Until they become memories of me here.

And then I will repeat my cycle,
My human cycle of dissatisfaction.

For what you miss there,
You will miss here.