They will call you a friend,  but that's where it ends. No comfort,  no truth, no help, and no shelter. Looking around for the ones who you call home,  but looking around you see you're alone. The moments,  the talks, sharing,  the feel. What do they mean if they leave you with nothing that's real? Friendship, such a flaky words. Such an unsure thing, an untrustworthy word. We spend our whole lives to find people with whom we can intertwine, only to find some things are only sweet lies. But the beauty of being a human you know is that you have yourself,  and you aren't really alone. So with pain in your heart and the truth in your soul you must close your eyes and you have to let go. Your soul will be fine, and your heart it will bind. Those friends you are leaving were toxic inside.  It may hurt, and the wounds may sting,  but being with yourself is sometimes the right thing. Let yourself free and start anew. You don't need friends,  you only need you.

Missing the trains, cars, and 3 AM bars. Excitement of the city, and the ache brought a pity. Of wanderlust she had once held in her hands and taken for granted. The adventure she had left there still overflowing in her heart. She had forgotten to appreciate the crowded avenues and beeping buses. The soft, gentle green grass of Central Park. The quiet and timid clink of silver spoons in coffee and tea shops. She missed the old rickety benches full of history and graffiti. The rough paved streets lined up with taxis. The food trucks overflowing with various smells calling your name. Even missing the loud taps of heels as businesswomen rushed passed her, to catch a meeting, a lunch date, a train. She realized what she thought she didn't want, was all she really needed. She thought she needed quiet and she thought she needed serene, but we all begin to realize nothing is what it seems. She knew what she needed to do, and she knew she would do it alone.  She would pack to go far, and get in a car,  going back to New York.... Her real home.

Constantly searching for serotonin. Because norepinephrine won't let me breathe. Dopamine, you're my dream. Epinephrine you stagger me.

I found myself and lost you.
I let go of your hurt,  found my strength anew. Picking my pieces up off the floor,  realizing you mean nothing anymore. You were an addiction,  a haunting, an affliction.  A monster terrorizing me and, my pride that had given up helping my needs.  Depriving me and calling it love. And there are sometimes I'm completely ashamed, my strength in vain.  Because I look for you...the monster under my bed that hasn't yet truly left my head.

You wear your shimmering black crown as you breaks others down. The vainly shined gems crooked with harsh words and skeletons trapped within them.  Your  ball gown dripping with the tears of ones you have brought down.  Walking down the red carpet laid down by the demons you have made your friends.  Pointing your finger at the world and critiquing the lost. Not caring of the pain that it costs.  Your ruby red lips emptying a venom so toxic,  so deadly,  and steadily a direct hit.  A fire within you that burns souls. Covering the mirrors all around to hide your own flaws and see yourself, never opening those self evaluating doors.  As I watch from my chair as you just don't care.  You berate me,  and say that you love me but hate me.  You have rusted my crown, so crooked and brown. You have broken my throne, and left me alone. But someday you will rip off your undeserving crown and will see your real self and truly be found. You  will rip off the curtains and stare into the mirror, and your cruelty,  regrets, and mistakes much clearer. Dear sister, one day you will see,  how truly destructive your reflection can be.

He fell in love with a wolf, and every night the trees and dirt called to her. Every night he let her run to the woods. Her mother earth.