A stranger knocks at my door-
I opened it and saw,
Loneliness standing in front of me,
Saying, “Hello, old friend."

You lie awake,
Late at night,
Heart quakes,
And constricts you tight.
You get a text on your phone,
From a friend that you know,
Your feelings of being alone disappear.
They ask you,
“Wanna hang out on Saturday?”
The beginning of your doom,
As your brain goes insane.
You question whether you should go,
Dream up excuses to keep you stuck at home,
Yet, you wonder why you feel so alone,
Nobody’s fault but your own.

It’s the crisis of connection,
Those nasty thoughts in your head,
That make you feel like you’re too boring,
For a meaningful friend,
So you keep the superficial ones,
Those that fade,
In a vain attempt to save you from the pain.

You say you feel alone,
Like no one cares,
Yet when they try,
You let your fears control,
And hold you back,
And you know,
That it’s wrong.
You push them away,
You’ll hurt them first before they deal the final blow to you,
You’ve experienced it before,
And you don’t want to feel that way again.
So you build your walls too high,
Where no one can save you,
Cause you trapped yourself inside.
You hope it’s not too late,
To make a window,
So you can see their faces,
And try to change your fate.

It’s the crisis of connection,
That keeps you standing back,
On the sidelines,
Too afraid to attack.
You assume,
Perhaps you were just meant to be alone,
So you stay home,
With your mental contusions.
You don’t know where to go.
So you just stand alone.

You’re not afraid,
To take the road less traveled,
You never fit in anyway,
So why bother?
Just do what you do,
And see where it takes you,
The road might be lonelier than most,
Just hold onto hope.

Perhaps the crisis of connection,
Won’t seem so severe,
In time.
Perhaps building strength,
And faith,
To make self-corrections,
Is the way,
To cross the finish line.
Perhaps the loneliness,
Is a testament to your strength,
Just don’t give up,
Though it may hurt,
I know,
We will find our way.

Why does my lonely heart still smile
It’s been up, it’s been down
Haven’t felt this pain in a while

We turned to the bottle
Thought we’d just about
Hit rock bottom
Emotional beats were trodden
Sad old streets forgotten
The leaves didn’t fall this autumn

Instead we braved the dark clouds
And our worst horrors
Still don’t want to face tomorrow
Haunted by the shadows
And the sinking sorrow

They say that better days will come
I’m riding the waves of the pain
Until I’m numb
Just hoping my good grace will be saved
By the grave when my time is done

We battled and prayed
Until the war was won
After all and all the while
Somehow my lonely heart still smiles

"Love me,
Love me,
Say that you love me";
The singer's voice is oh-so dreamy
And so I try
To float along, light and high
And airy as her words; I
Can hear the synth play
er's euphoria. Something
About this song's just screaming
At me, telling me
To just be free
But how can I even imagine
That weightlessness? I hear
The tin
Man's shouts too near,
Too close to home. "If only
I had a heart,"
If only there were someone for me
That could never stand us being apart.
"Love me, love me,
Pretend that you love me."
I wouldn't be
Able to see
The difference anyway.
What do you say?

doors & how they swing so far wide
like the gaping shadow
of a pair of lips waiting...

i wonder if you realized i felt the grace
of your arrow -- brushing so lovingly through
the flesh of my *****
& i couldn’t help but to smile

take it away from me, the flutter in my chest, the
residuals of your golden essence
sitting on the rim of modelos
& passenger seat of my monte carlo

when i watch the neutral tones of grainy film
seep into your oily features
i wish you would smile just a bit more

two lovers draped over this canvas
cast their passionate shadows over bedsheets,
pleasurable touches & a recipe for a sickly afterglow,
burning like the delicate backs of fireflies
bursting like a pearlescent bubble
chased by bitter aftertaste of longing

how i wish you knew
how much you made me feel
how my paints drip like honey
& form the lines that become you

when i breathe again the essence has vanished
like paint thinner on acrylic. honey replaced
with a spoonful of sugar
& i cross the street to meet you

suddenly the memory leaves no trace behind
& i can’t help but to trace the spot
where you once stood

My world was known as a bustling city,
But it was all fiction.
Now we’re here—the present.
It should be gifting. Instead,
It’s stealing all the last pieces of the fantasy.

Lonely I’ve been,
My world dry and dusty.
Dirt always catches you—
It screams ghost town; that’s what it is.

It’s lonely, I can't lie.
Losing the one that made your world lively,
That made your world bright!
It was a sellout dream because all came with an agenda.

"Better me"—an invitation for the worst.
I see my circle turning to a point—
No circumference, no area.
Just me, with no room to accommodate anyone.

Tonight stands still, like how I stand when I see you
The smoke hangs in the air, like my feelings when I see you
I smile, as I imagine us doing all the stuff couples do
and I think I feel happier when I do, I think

I feel like tonight is going too slow
I feel like you wouldn't really know
What goes on in my head
When I beg myself to tell you instead

When you take me to that special place
It puts my head in a special case
Where my stomach is crushed
And my lips are hushed

I think I feel sadder when you smile
Especially when it's not from me
And I envy them for a while
To be what I can't be

I believe you don't care about me
Because that's really the truth
Or at least that's what my head says
I never told you but I really am a mess

But you knew that already
I don't think you know though
But in the end, if the shoe doesn't fit
Just end it, or just force it.

Open doors, yet stuck inside.
Come and go, I don't care.
But the pain,
an unknown ache in me
weighs heavy.

Like a ghost wandering lost,
I move with invisible wound.
Some days it hits harder,
Just like last night.
Just like today.

This lonely, silent hollow ache,
I don't know why I push everyone away.
It’s just another day.

I can't relate, I can't explain.
Nothing feels real outside,
Nothing makes sense inside,
It's heavy.

I wish I could figure it out.

A tree sits in the middle of a forest,
Hydrophobic,
It fears the rain.
Its bark is coarse,
Its roots withered,
It has no leaves,
And its branches point down,
Toward the ground.

The tree does this by choice,
For it’s afraid of change,
And if not changing is the one thing it can control,
It’ll hold it to the end.
When the rain pours,
The tree refuses the water,
Spits it toward its fellow trees,
Whose leaves dance in the windy breeze.
They always saw the little tree as strange.
Why did it willingly starve itself?
What did it gain?
It always looked so sad,
All alone,
Yet this was the life that it chose.

As the little tree grew older,
It watched as its fellow trees grew tall,
And oh, so green.
Their changing leaves,
Their branches and berries,
That the birds would love to eat.
How it envied,
Oh, it envied.
It uprooted itself,
As its dying roots clung to life,
It walked all on its own,
To find another home.

It started to wonder if the rain was worthy of his fear,
Or if it was overthinking–again.
Was the future a mountain or a molehill?
Only time will tell.
How the little tree wished it could control every detail,
Save itself from suspense,
Always knowing what comes next.
Unfortunately,
Life doesn’t work that way,
A lesson the tree would have to learn,
And accept,
To find brighter days.

The tree planted itself in a garden,
Filled with flowers,
Of many hues,
Reds,
Greens,
Yellows,
And blues.
Even though the nearby birds,
Would chirp and coo,
It did little,
To ease the little tree’s
Lonely blues.
Yet as it gazed,
Amidst the pretty colors,
Of the flowers,
He thought of the fellow trees.
He wondered,
If this was the way life was meant to be.
After all,
These flowers would die come winter,
And grow again come spring,
And they would be just a goregous,
And marvelous,
The second time around.
Eureka!
Purpose and acceptance,
Finally found.

The little tree looked to the sky,
A thunderstorm was on its way.
He could hear the crackle of the lightning,
As a house was set unto a blaze.
The tree tightened down his roots,
He wouldn’t be afraid.
Perhaps if he believed,
He would be okay.
After all,
The other trees thrived off the rain,
It caused their leaves to grow,
And eased their decay.
Perhaps,
He was running from the wrong thing.
Perhaps,
His biggest villain wasn’t change.
Perhaps,
Life would be okay.

The rain came like a hurricane,
And the tree absorbed the water,
Having starved and thirsted for so long,
And as the sky cleared to the sunshine,
He heard the bird’s sweet songs.
His leaves grew majestically,
The berries tasted so sweet,
The birds who ate them,
Devoured even the seeds.
The tree felt fulfilled,
He had found his place,
And though he still feared the future,
And change,
He believed everything would be okay.