LONELINESS

I am a melody without refrain, sitting in this darkened room with no one to share my pain. I can't seem to figure  out why or work out how to give it another try. The sting of  winter wind feels so cold, and I'm sitting here with no one to hold. I sit here all alone, is it the wind or the silence that chills me to the bone? How long will it last, or will I always be haunted, Living in the past. Sitting next to this open window, with all this pain in my heart and no one to show. As night turns to day, I wonder if she'll ever find me, or will I die here alone, with no one to find me, no mourners left behind me. I am a melody with no refrain, and no ones here to help with the pain of my lonely heart, somehow I think I've played my part.

I stare alone in this World
Not lending on another soul
Being shy
In other’s eyes

Makes me quite
A monster

I tear and scare
As The voices
Yawn

Soon it’ll be over
Soon it’ll be
Off your shoulders

Though
I’m just a lonely
Girl
In the eyes
You cannot
Disguise  
A part half seen
To a two part story
Hardly seen
To be
A tragedy

http://img.gawkerassets.com/img/186u2tuy16q3jjpg/original.jpg


Some kind of angel

Three times I called out to her
each time
she stepped out of the blackness
and stood over me
I pursed my lips for her kiss
but she just stared
her face laced with pity
so I cursed her

again

the ghosts of Winter Hill

We are so distant. Insignificant.
A star in a galaxy of stars
flickering for survival,
I know you are much greater than I
projecting covert codes
and waiting for the reply
that will save our souls.

I see you nightly
with your grand peaks and haunting tower
looming overtly in dark spires,
anticipating the crawl of dazed knees
to learn of ancient tales,
the crow of peasant folklore
who once harvested of your sides.

Bow down, you streets with their aching lights
and revel in Eden's cenotaph;
I walk with the ghosts of Winter Hill
to cure the lonely hum within,
dwelling in the bleak frosts
leaving chaste footprints
pardoned of all sin.

Minimalism

Everybody goes
and fades and vanishes;
And I,
I grow in silence.

BROKEN
--------
Black
Eyed
Boy

Your mothers
And your
Stepfathers
Toy

Sentenced
To
Life

By
The hands
That
Feed you

Watching
The hand
That
Bleeds you

Scars
Were
Not
Enough

Even
Your
Skin
And
Bone

Were
Not
Left
Alone

Inscription
Unknown
Loveless
Lifeless

Black
Eyes
Boy



***This poem is dedicated to Kristopher, he was beaten to death by his stepfather, age eight***
when he was dead his mother wanted to have his grave closer so that he "could be taken care of"
so if not his life, even his death wasnt enough....

On the Up and Up



Messed around with my own insanity. Making demands on me
Attempting to scratch and scrape away against my own objectivity
I screamed inwardly
realizing there's no one inside of me could really feel
No one to care or listen. Yeah, listen
This isn’t about self-discipline or
feeling sorry for myself
I’ve bridged that gap and
made a safe return to my own crawl space
Not in haste. But at my own pace
 
Of course the anxiety caused by my departure and this
My reluctant journey to The Absence of You
That it’s not without its price. Fractured hearts
They don’t play nice
Can be a bigger bully than you were…are
 
But, no regrets… and would I do it again?
Nada… No dice.
Pain like this is not to experience twice
First time is enough
Like when I first should have seen this misery coming
Knowing you're 30 below and you might be black ice…awaiting
Cold, slippery and treacherous, happy in your being
Emotionless into your own self satisfied moments of comfort
With me… unable to bring enough heat to thaw or transform and
have you adapt & blend with me…creating a satisfied us
What a bust. My eyes, my heart refused to see
that it just doesn’t happen like that
 
So I slip and fall
down
hard
 
I
fall
down
 
Hard onto to you
Then we go sliding, away sliding
 
Sliding and I slide and slide and slide and then
I glide away becoming just like you
bitterly cold, except not comfortable
YO frosty, it’s ok though…
No broken bones just a breakup
One that eventually took precedent
That up & away which will take me...and
hopefully introduce me and
raise me to a tempered chore wherein
the work not so much a chore as it is a return
A return to the me and the warm blending of that me with
someone other than you.
 
 
 
..

twistedgirl said:im
sitting in
my
room with a bullet in
my
hand
waiting for
my gun so
i
can float away.

Reminds me of a song called 'Needles'

I'm just sitting in my room,
With a needle in my hand,
Just waiting for the tomb,
Of some old dying man..


Love that song

The Loneliness In Freedom

there is a loneliness
in absolute freedom

free to do whatever
no one cares

free to choose
yet there isn't a choice to be made

free to be yourself
no one is around to notice

free to walk the streets
by yourself

free to drink into the wee hours
alone

free fucking free
unaccompanied

free,free,free
absolutely lonely

“Chewing Chocolate in Another Universe”
http://www.accidentalhedonist.com/media/3MsktrsMain.jpg
Standing in the rain of the busy parking lot,  
I watched myself sitting quietly on the sidewalk bench.  
I could see pain written on my face as    
I chewed my way through a milk-chocolate bar,  
my favorite one, a plump Three Musketeers,  
had peanuts and was filled with tasty fluff.  
It looked like I was eating in a dream world,  
my feet were crossed, the seat was empty.  
The reflection in the glass window was    
staring back at me looking back at me in the drizzle.  
Big brown penetrating eyes with no real reason to smile,  
the circadian lies were swirling around both of us like dead leaves.  
For a second, a criminally insane homeless guy walked by, breaking my view.  
He passed and I quickly came back into focus.  
I was still chewing, the pecans tasted bland,    
wasn’t how I remembered them.  
It was then I realized I was living in a parallel universe.  
Actually, I knew it all along,    
I was just keeping my mouth shut  
to avoid falling into another rut.