Through all the years of wear and tear,
The sounds of night I cannot bear—
Laughter, joy, and friends’ delight
Contrast starkly with my lonely night.

Silence is the shade I own,
Yet warmth of friends is what I long.
Alas! My nature shuns the light,
Estranged from those in friendship’s sight.

For kindness, given, fades to naught
By those who held it all forgot.
So here I dwell in solemn plight,
Alone among the dead of night.

Rough wind on my lips
but no words will stay
I think my poem blew away

Stunted, the same, by
          highs
            and
           lows
           alike.
A jubilant parade inside
           some nights.
Silver linings? Ticking timebombs! Infinite splinters!
No good time left unexploded.
Rusted blood iron and red wine
filling my eyes.
          Tired of feeling "weird."
          Tired of knowing I'm being.

I wish I wanted anything in a way that didn't
                              scare me.
I wish I could love anything in ways that
                            couldn't hurt--
                           --inward or out--

                    I wish...
                    I think...
If I sit on this bench...for a long time,
and keep perfectly still...but make subtle
                    eye contact
          with some of the crows...
they'll accept me as one of them?

                    Teach me to fly
                    Or, at least, hide
                       in plain sight.
        A new vocabulary for my quiet
              when it starts to get mean.

Entangled, alike, by
          lows
          and
          highs,
         the same.
Convenient jailbreak for a Name--
               --Say it.
Chewing paper? Eat the playbook. Shred this formula.
No good night goes unpunished.
Rusted blood in my mouth, and red wine--
crying outside
                    Tired of being fragile
                    Tired of knowing I know.

                   And how 'bout the crows?

                   I'm good for a laugh, they suppose.

The rays of the sun reflect on my eyes, from early this morning.
Thus I am still weary, Ye I shall scorn.
I try to chase the wind; my mind is too unique.
My heart filled with rage, O my why today.

2. Now it is noon, thus the scorching heat.
The boredom is depressing, for all I do is sit.
Perhaps I am contemptible, for my laziness.
My selfishness is outrageous; I am without context.

3. The sun is down, my energy is depleted, my willingness is diminished.
I am full of pain, relieve me of my misery.
Thou cannot save me, I am derisive.
Who will come to my aid, for I am dismissive.