i am so alone
i had so many people
that could have been
more
but i just push them away
cause i cant even
trust myself
what am i doing
playing with another persons health
i just need to
cut myself off
from the world
i'm too distraught

i like
   to be
      alone

but
   i hate
      to be
         lonely

Hundred times in life,

I swallowed my pride,

Just forsake rid this strife,

and I won’t take any bite.



They change,

We not the same,

Pointing finger & making excuses,

While me – hold the trigger & abandon abuses,



I awakened as a lone wolf,

rely on self acceptance & master the movement,

too far from things to get involve,

less talk & do more self improvement.

How is it,
I feel more alone,
Alongside others each day,

Than I did,
Continuously in solitude?

People exhaust my heart.

Alone it idealizes,
Interactions,
Romanticizes,
Human nature.

Reality,
Weighs heavy,
And disappoints.

I have been misplaced. I wander through a wilderness of population and insanity. To be lost in the woods is a blessing; a thrilling adventure full of serenity and life. But to find oneself entangled in this city? I cannot stand it. Traffic rages around me: an ever present roar of engines and anger. The harsh, whining lights glare off dusty blacktop and blot out the stars that once calmed my soul. Glazed eyes are made aware of my presence, yet do not recognize the human being behind my body. I am simply a face. An object. Something to be honked at, passed over, jostled out of the way. Stone faces and cinder block hearts are hidden behind streetlight stares shut up in mansions of separation. Fear, depression, anxiety and violence run rampant on the streets as each individual loses all hope of community in the rage of the crowd. We are lost. Fallen to the dark madness that screams for our attention and consumes our minds. Media is hurled at these overstimulated children till they crack under the weight of it all. And I stand here, digging my toes into the only scraggly patch of earth to be found, watching the bricks crumble around me. Each one is a face. A soul. A story. They have succumb to the city and fallen in the ash heap. The child within has been starved to death; and a stone faced stranger is all that remains.
I do not belong here! Can you not see? I am a child of wind and woodlands: an imp who dwells in trees and caverns and mountain tops. I run with the rivers and laugh in the rain. With calloused feet and muddy toes; bruised knees and a thousand tiny scars carrying stories. My hair is tangled in leaves and twigs, and my sun kissed nose lies between ruddy, wind burned cheeks. I have a tribe. My very own clan of fellow adventurers. Shall I forsake our union and abandon my family for this beauty depraved land? Our hearts have been melded together, and are now being ripped apart by brute force. I cannot bear it. I am not strong enough to hold all the desperate fragments together. Please, I beg of you. Let me go home.