Drift now, to the safest place
Where you no longer bear the cold
Of the one you love not caring for you.

Where the burden of your failures
No longer holds you down
And is as far away as opening your eyes.

It's  where loneliness turns to warmth,
Hurt turns to solace,
And the agony of longing
Turns into a mending embrace.

The fare is free, the journey is short.
All you need to do, is close your eyes
And go to sleep.

I look in the mirror and I see a face.
It's a young man's face.
He's got brown eyes.
His skin is the lightest of browns.
His face is round
And his chin has the slightest cleft
And his hair is short and black.
He is average in every way.
And sometimes,
But only sometimes,
He is handsome.
But I don't feel like him.
I don't feel like anyone.
What does it mean to be human?
I can't be one, otherwise I'd understand.
Right?
But I have emotions,
They just work differently than most.
They're stronger
Less restricted
And more raw.
Perhaps that is why I'm weak.
My anger is angrier
And my sadness is sadder
Happiness hides in its corner.
For fear of its own destruction
Upon the slightest emergence.
The Hurt is more painful.
Paper cuts deep into my bone.
My nerves are raw and exposed
For everyone to attack
And so I lash out.
Because I am hurt.
So I must hurt others,
Those who hurt me.
But then I'm pierced
By disapproving glares.
Because what I did was wrong.
But hurting me, that was okay.
The moral choice, even.
So how can I be human
When I am clearly so different,
So angry,
So sensitive,
So wrong?
And why do I see this human face
In the mirror?

In my mind, I'm caring for roses.
Reds and pinks exploding
Into dynamic poses.

Sweet aromas dance through my nostrils.
While the vines say "thank you",
By extending their tendrils.

But my hands tell a different story.
The bush lashes out,
Leaving fingers pricked and ******.

Not a single rose in sight.
They've all receded,
Asleep in their longest night.

Sometimes a rose or two will bud.
Blessing me with affection,
Making me think I am loved.

But then it pulls back from the embrace
It digs it's thorns into my flesh,
Reminding me of my place.

It rips away my skin, flesh is exposed,
A burning, raw, painful sensation,
A wound never to be closed.

I know I'm no reason to make room.
But I'll keep tending to this bush,
In hopes that a real friendship will bloom.

A ball of white heat
Burns in the center of my chest.
It sends out a ripple
Of frustration and anger,
Of joy and satisfaction ,
Of longing and pain,
And though daggers fly between us
The ball of heat is only temporarily injured.
Soon it resumes it's burning display,
Perhaps even brighter than before.
This heat will only continue to burn.
To sear my flesh and melt away my bones.
Yet despite this knowledge,
It continues to burn.
It burns hotly in hopes of being matched
In hopes of being shared,
In hopes of finding a home,
In two bodies, instead of one.
These hopes I know will fall short
They will go on unanswered,
And unreciprocated
Because who this flame burns for
Is fireproof.

I wish I could tell you what it's like
To feel this way, so lost and alone
To have every cell in my body
Ache for affections most unnatural.

I wish I could make you understand
What it's like to jealousy and longing
Pulling at my limbs
Hoping to tear me in two.

If only I could make you see
My world through my eyes
How foreign and scary
And how wonderful you are to me.

If only my world wasn't so lonely.
If only there weren't such a vast ocean
Within the three feet between us

Mrs. Scarlet stalks down the street, into Doctor Blue's office, her affair gone unnoticed.

Doctor blue gazes as the elegant Lady Violet leaves the office, his love unrequited.

Lady Violet scoffs at the commoners inside Mr. Green's gym, deeply missing her late husband.

Mr. Green vigorously instructs a cardio class, trying desperately to forget his divorce.

Ms. Orange puts her all into the cardio class, in hopes that she'll catch the eye of that special someone, perhaps that of Mr. Yellow

All is well with Mr. Yellow. His depression will stay at bay as long as his meds are handy.

Citizens of a spectrum of secrets.

To you, my sweetest of poisons,

I hope you know I loved you.
Sometimes I still do.
Your presence gave me warmth
Your words gave me worth.
I looked into your eyes and found home.
I watched you smile and my heart leaped.
Then I told you how I felt,
How you were different than the rest to me.
And you didn't care!
Our friendship was unchanged
Maybe that's not true.
It was stronger.
My love for you had grown,
But in a different direction.
It was in a weight class all its own.
Stronger than platonic,
Different from romantic.
I loved you, yet couldn't have you.
And I was completely happy with that.

Though you were the sweetest poison,
You were poison nonetheless.
A distraction placed in my path.
But you didn't know, how could you?
You found a gem,
I was sent a trial.
And like any poison, no matter how sweet,
You threatened my very life.
I knew of the danger, but I didn't care.
I wanted you in my system.
Simply put, you felt good.
Talking to you, being with you,
It all just felt so good,
In a way I had never known,
And have yet to know again.
But it all collapsed around me,
A curtain weighed down by reality.
I would die if I kept you.

Rehab was awful.
Sometimes I still go through withdrawal.
Thinking of the sweet bliss you gave me,
Replaced by a dull numbness.
I've known many poisons,
But you were my sweetest.

The gun shook in his hand,
Finger brushing the trigger ever so lightly.
The barrel felt cool against his temple.
It was strange, considering that soon,
A white-hot piece of metal
Would bore into his skull,
And explore the expanse of his brain.
He wondered, what would the bullet see,
Before it's explosive exit
Through his other temple?
Would see the faces of everyone he loved,
Who didn't love him back?
Would it see the shame, dissapointment
In his father's eyes?
Would it see the pain of losing a friend,
Due to no one's fault besides his own?
Would it feel the frozen blackness
Of complete Isolation?
Would it finally be the one
To understand the wretched feeling
Of loathing his own existence?
These thoughts ran through his mind,
Pioneering a path for the bullet.
The gun weighed a thousand pounds.
With his last ounce of strength,
He pulled the triger, and freed himself.

All of my mistakes are written on the walls.
The floor riddled with discarded hopes.
Anxieties soar around the room,
Bats in an orchestra of anarchy. Aspirations struggle to rise
From the failure - soaked floor.
Beautiful memories hang on the wall,
Framed with care and precision.
Gears gnash angrily at the ceiling
And the stench of loneliness permeates the room.
Furniture is carefully placed
In a weak effort to regain control.
They are torn and tattered,
Obvious signs of terrible creatures.
This room has no doors
And it has no windows.
All my efforts to escape prove futile.
Cleaning and organizing have no meaning. The Room always rearranges itself
Back into its most hideous form.

I lay in bed talking to my maker
Asking "please God, don't let it take her"
Away from me, and away from all this.
While I would do anything for one more kiss.

To hold her in my arms is all I wanted
While we stood against the world,
Bold and undaunted.

We'd smile as we walked, hand-in-hand
Through this world of darkness,
This treacherous land.

"She's my light, my partner"
I prayed to God above.
"Thanks to her, I can understand Love"

We're the dynamic duo,
Nothing keeps us apart
Except, perhaps, an attack on the heart.

But she's stronger than this, i know she'll get through
And things will be like before, old and new.

Together we can surmount this wall.
That's when my phone rang,
And the Hospital called.