Author: A Poet's Pen

Alone

I am alone

In the streets of a foreign city

In the night when the people empty

Out of this place

I am not home

In these pieces of broken places

In my mind where I feel wasted

and lose my days

I find a bottle and let it fill me with

dread and fear

while blackened vision kills the feeling

so I can lie here

On the ground next to glass and trash

And abandoned lifeless things

I see myself in reflections of

abandoned buildings

So I die to myself

Every time I close my eyes

I try to accept

the parts of me that lie

But I won’t let go

Of the dark beneath my eyes

And I can’t say no

To the voices in my mind

I am alone

Just Existing

Everyday I ask myself,

“What am I doing with my life?”

And sometimes… I feel fear when the words escape my mouth–

Like they are running into the unknown,

Quickly being ripped away from me

Without giving an answer to the emptiness I am left with.

I meet a crisis everyday.

I ask myself when this anxious feeling will end

So I can begin again,

But I haven’t found the solace yet.

I haven’t discovered relief from the questions.

Today I ask myself,

“Am I a part of the living, or am I closer to death?”

Suffocating

This isn’t what I asked for.

I asked for freedom and confidence to open my hands and catch promises,

But I feel crushed by a suffocating loneliness that bids me to go to bed.

My eyes close and I let the darkness fall in on all sides,

because I realize I am afraid of myself.

I am not content with sitting up at night, listening to music,

Writing in a bed made for one person.

There’s this empty space beside me, cold and unloving,

Reminding me of a time when it was filled.

Now I’m filled to the brim with emotions,

Holding my face in my hands,

Wishing he was here to listen.

But I am quick to forget how it felt when he listened.

He listened to speak,

So he could tell me the image he wanted my body to portray.

He pulled me into his world and eclipsed mine in a blanket of

Black and white devoid of any of the color I created.

So I trade a warm body for solitude,

And tell myself I am strong, and I can be strong alone.

The Lack of

I have a block in my mind that weighs the rest of my body down

Until I am buried beneath the ground

Blinded by my apathy and self-doubt.

The block causes build up in my brain with random strains of words

That mean nothing–

It only cause my nerves to stay in the past tense of things

As I replay days over and over again

Until I feel sorry and sick

From my remembering and retelling of stories that have ended.

I don’t want any part of this collage of faulted thought,

But I can’t erase my mind block.

It overwhelms my ability to remove the piece stopping me

From moving forward–

So I am cursed to relive dead end passages

As I sink farther beneath the beginning.