Despite all the chaos,
She puts up a smile,
hidden in her pathos,
alone for a while.

She has had enough,
fighting with her inner self,
all she does is laugh,
hoping everyone else is deaf.

Aiming at her is an arrow,
made of pitch dark metal,
all she feels right now is sorrow,
all she needs is someone gentle.

That smile is hiding
as much pain
away she is sliding
out of that long chain.

All she need is someone
to be by her side
his shoulders to put her head on
whenever she feels like to hide.

Beneath that glorious smile
lies a face no one's ever seen
she's held on for a while
waiting for him, unseen.

-Lily

Never did I think,
That moving ‘home’,
Would be the reason,
I constantly think about the end.

I was so naïve to even think,
That me being back,
Would be any different.

I made their lives more difficult,
They were happy without me.
It must be such a pain,
For them to have to look at me.

Each day only gets worse,
I don’t know how long I can take it,
Before I break.

.
.
.

Who could have known,
That moving ‘home’,
Would mean the end.

there is a small fire,
a flickering light,
akin to a firefly lost
in the cold mists of night,
shining bright where
my joy should be.

there is a deep well,
a profound darkness,
akin to a cavern flooded
with frigid dark waves
echoing eternally
to the sound of loneliness.

there is a lackluster wreckage,
a broken trireme,
akin to a kingly one
that sailed out of Ithaca,
bleeding memories through
a gashing wound.

there is a rhyme,
a shattered syllable,
akin to a muffled shout
that reverberated throughout
those splintered blinks
of a forlorn childhood...

I always loved a good mystery.
I just never realized how much I was one.
Do they even know who’s at home right now?
Do they know why that's a problem?
I always loved Sherlock Holmes.
But not even he could figure me out.

Are you a talker?
Or a listener.
I’ve always been both.
But I don't talk much at home.
I don’t talk much about it.
But I always sit there.
And listen.
While everybody serves their secrets.
Pouring them.
Spooning them
on to a platter.
I listen.
I might be breaking inside.
On my fourth sleepless night.
But that doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter?

I don’t know how to talk anymore.
About things that make me seen.
It comforts people.
To think they know me.
When really.
They don’t know anything.
I’m just a stranger.
Who collects their pain.
You talk to me and I lift that weight.
Tell me.
Do you feel lighter when you walk away?
Yeah.
Told you so.

So here I am.
Because I have nobody to turn to.
At the end of the day.
Except for you.
Who I love far more than friendships allow.
But not quite as a lover.
Who sees me as more than just a helpful tool.
Who understands that I too,
Suffer.
You just get it.
I just get you.
I don’t know..
But maybe you feel it too.
Maybe.
Just maybe.
This is love.

Thwack my heart,
Vacant feelings.
You used up every last
part of me.

I'm so ******* jaded.

I dote on you,
while you take ample amounts
of me.
I don't know what's left to share.

I'm restless.

I sleep in an untenanted bed
with creases that leave little of you.
Hollow eyes,
staring at me when I rouse.
Hoping I'll be there for your last
days awake.

I feel lonely in a full house.

Meeting at the lowest,
four walls to keep us from killing ourselves.
Was starting again,
first day of school like your parents did?
Was it a bond,
Or did our demons tangle?

This is a mess I have to clean, again.

I thought I could bear it,
with un-penetrated walls and flying my flag.
That the thought of your smile could hold my strength,
and fortify my castle.

Those downcast eyes and upturned mouth,
couldn't that give me just a little comfort,
a little more strength?

But those were wishful thoughts
of too good intentions.
Now here I lay toppled,
buried beneath my own stone walls.

Can you not see these,
not feel these bleeding sunset wounds?
Exposed and seething behind the brave face,
that urge every fiber within me to react;
to cross the line drawn in the sand between us.
Cast off my restraints
and pour myself out to you.

Would that soothe the aching that consumes me
and return you from that stranger's lips?
Or have time and words stretched thin,
hanging our bridges on feeble threads
waiting to cut ties beneath my steps?

Lonely bones
Skin stuck to your muscle stones
Hold me but make me feel empty
It feels like you're loving me *****.

And why do I want to hate you
When you swear your love's true?
Look at my heart, blue
Act like you don't have
A clue.

But I can see through you
Love pretends
We can make amends
But somehow,
It always ends.

The last time I saw you, I smiled, and feigned  
Simple friendship with my lips.  
I walked beside you down a narrow forest trail,  
Tall grass playing at my fingertips, until we emerged  
At a stream, where we sat and talked.  
While my heart beat your rhythm in my ears  
So loudly that I never stopped to wonder,  
If my rhythm was beating in yours.  

I don’t remember most of what was said.  
I can see your eyes, sparkling,  
Darting between mine and the water,  
Your half smile, playing at the corner of your mouth.  
I can see your lips moving, soft and full  
As they wrap themselves around syllables,  
But I can’t make out the words  
Just the thumping in my ears.  

When I leave, for the last time, we hug.  
I feel your soft warmth against me  
And wonder if you can feel yourself  
Thundering behind my ribs.  
I hold on, only a second too long,  
Despite the aching in my blood not to let go,  
Not to unwrap myself from you.  
Because part of me knew, this would be the last time.

Why did I come at all,  
When both of us knew that the stars were already  
Spinning us out of orbit.  
To prove to myself that you were just a friend,  
Or lie to myself that you weren't a lover.

I should have never come,  
Or never left -  
But all we say
is goodbye.