It's never too lonely here
with a soul which has
a thirst that even the
oceans can't quench,

with a heart that holds
secrets dark and deep
where roots of the oldest
trees too can't reach,

with twinkling eyes that
dream the biggest of dreams
which even the shiniest
stars can't match.

It's never too lonely here
while I take this journey
inward, beyond walls and
boundaries to seek myself,

there's a light inside
you and me, so radiant
and warm, take its
hand and follow it,

ask it all the questions
you've always had and
the day you realise the
answers are within you
is when you too will say -
it's never too lonely here.

i've heard people say
"the one thing worse than sadness is indifference"

the people who say that
haven't spent the late nights
curled up sobbing on the bathroom floor
shuddering with each breath,
quietly screaming for strength
"oh god let me make it through tonight"

people who say that haven't played russian roulette
with themselves
gambling their lives for pieces of hope that may never show

people who say
that indifference is worse than sadness
couldn't be more wrong
i'd rather feel nothing than the weight of what i can't control crushing the life out of me

Sometimes she blows
Cigarette smoke
In your face and
You call that love
Not because it is
But because
You want it to be

You're so ******* lonely
So ******* unable
To handle the
Ocean roar in your
Ears when you're alone

You tell yourself
That the ash in
Your lungs is
As good as
A kiss good night.

I shouldn’t be a mom

There’s no reason i should allow myself to bring children into this world
Children with the same problems that I have
How selfish of me to think and assume I deserve or am worthy of allowing myself to bring someone into this world with my issues?
The anxiety, the depression, the self deprecating thoughts

I wouldn’t be a good mom

How could I look into the eyes of my sons or daughters and know I brought them into this world to feel such immense pain?
What would give me the right to bring children into this hell full of negativity, poverty and intense drama?

I couldn’t be a good mom

How insanely asinine of me to think I should be projecting my problems into my spawn?
What part of my last twenty seven years of life would prompt me to believe I should feel the happiness and pride the mothers and fathers around me feel?


But what if all my honest, true, real self realization would make me the best mom ever?

And with that wound to the heart born of cruel enlightenment -
I am affected, and afflicted, to find that He has finally decided to love another.

Who might She be, so superior to me?
How beautiful, Ethereal, Godly must she appear to Him?
Whom could never suffice to provide,
how lowly then am I?

I surmised as engaged that which was nothing but courteous exchange.
His pity shed for foolish me, anguished for His affections,
I was so simple and narcissistic, to imagine any potential ever living.

With that, I am crushed by the weight of a deserved but savage modesty.
How insignificant to His life, diminutive, unworthy must I be?
The sinister sentiment - that He has chosen not only not me, but She - devours all sureness of self and all of my esteem.

Spiteful as I am, I will deny Him tears.
I will cease gratifying such an immense ego and perchance depart with some pieces of dignity.
It is so hard, despite it so long since His immensity last gratified me.

He will never realize the plague on me He's infected,
Never witness the wounds on me He's inflicted,
Never recognize the hopeful heart He's afflicted.

After all this time, perhaps I've accepted that when I come back to You I meet Defeat.
This time, instead, perhaps I take what's left of myself and leave.
Perhaps, I beg, perhaps...
We'll see.

Consuming useless videos and content
Alone in my room
To distract from the racing and hurtful
Thoughts about you
And it always works for a moment
Or a minute or more
Until the intrusive thoughts come back,
Barging down my door
I put it back up, re-***** the hinges
And shut it
And lay back down to consume more
Mindless content

A song, a memory, is all it takes
To feel what I lost, not just you
But the losses of the past two years.

And now I loose my home too,
So much so little, so few
Places I have settled,
Found my place, and now I'm rattled.

How do I let go of the things that helped me move on?
Now, I say so long.
It's another chapter, but was I ready to close the last?
To the future, observe the present, remember the past.