Dad said i should get a life, and do what it means to be a man,
Instead of just dreaming and holding a spray can,
Whats life without expression?
I'm just a shell with no emotion,
He told me i need direction,

"Like hey, that job has good money" but comes with such a cost,
Id rather keep a flat wallet,
And how do you know you've found meaning in life when you've always seemed so lost,
I understand what i have in my hands, and i don't want to sound cliché like "man, I'm just a lost teen"
But we all think differently, and i don't want a life with routine,
Life at fifteen was so much easier,
Waiting for the evening end, to head out under the city lights,
From one place to another to end up some place else the next night.

As I lay in the bedroom,
My own personal confinement'
in which I oh so willingly created for myself,
I feel myself on fire,
My hands shaking out of utter frustration,
fighting every tear welling up in my eyes with all that I have left of my sense of mind,
But for what reason?
to be strong,
to reassure myself,
I ask myself what use is it to be strong if your utterly alone,
With no one to care weather your strong or not,
So I let go,
but just for a moment,
I allow myself to remember the pain,
the memories I locked away,
hoping someday they would cease to exist,
The troubling feelings that twist my heart and bring me to my knee's
letting out slow puffs of breath I calm my emotions,
wipe the water from my eye's ,
clear the tortured expression that once lay on my face,
I leave the moment and enter back into the world I made myself believe in,
I pretend to be strong.

Trust.
Takes years to build and seconds to destroy.
This is the most honest thing I've posted on this
computer. I honestly think I trust my computer
more than the people around me. I don't know whose
******* with me or not anymore.
Trust.

The orange prescription bottle.
The word Buproprion
On the white label.
I think to myself
I'm taking a pokemon for a drug.
Well here it goes.

I am the narcissist that
fell in love with my own
mind and sadly found out:
It's an abusive relationship.

December falls upon my eyes;
I am scared as hell.

The numbness of limbs,
the sorrowful gray
that casts over me and you
and what we once used to be.

December will be the death of me,
I know for sure
because this time
I sit alone with my sword unready
and the candle flickering.

The winds will whisper
in my ear, things I already know
and unto you,
the realization that will never come.

December,
I am afraid.
I am not strong enough
to face you.

A person alone,
standing somewhere unknown,
a parking garage's top floor,
looking on people at the movies and casinos in score,
every one looking forward while one stares down,
at all that inhabit this big city small town,
the families and singles alike,
trying to escape their stationary bike,
hearing barely intelligible dreams and bemoans,
no one notices the person above alone,
the mountains mingling with skyscrapers and skylines,
all looking no one searching for something to take off their minds,
there's a cool chill,
and the person soon drunk enough of the scene to have their fill,
but doesn't back even when it starts to snow,
for they have no where to go,
cept stare at the scene of beauty down below,
the pull their phone out and write this poem,
still no one looks up and sees the person alone.