Alone

What is this,
aching loneliness,
in the pit,
of my stomache.
This hole,
in my,
very,
being.

Why am I so,
alone?
what is wrong,
within me?
Even in a crowd,
I am completely,
utterly,
alone.

This House

The house,
this house,
used to be,
filled to brimming,
in happiness,
laughter,
love,
life.
But no longer.

This porch's,
cracked paint,
swollen wood,
missing furniture,
tell of the sorrow,
they tried to escape from.
But couldn't.

The spiders,
and cobwebs,
crawling,
creeping,
up and down,
every dusty wall,
in each musty bedroom,
and hall,
tell of the loneliness,
of abandonment.

The driveway,
covered in deep cracks,
leaves,
dirt,
tell of the forgotten,
the alone,
deep in this forest of misery.

If you visit,
this moaning,
decrepit,
old house,
you'll see,
the shadows,
of the past,
with no future.

The Mask

It's this mask,
I cling to,
I need.
If they knew who I really am,
they'd leave.

It's cracking,
fading,
this mask,
made of clay.
They're beginning to leave.

My true self,
the uncontrolable,
demon of sadness,
pain,
deprivation,
anger,
within me.

They're leaving me,
I try to paste,
tape,
it back togethor.
I cling,
to the shards,
of what I once was,
to them.

They're gone.

Love

Love is nonexistent,
rough, tough,
noone can go through it unscathed,
Once it has you in it's grip,
it burns,bleeds,scratches,
lights you on fire,
What is love anyways?
Once you fall it's like,
getting intoxicated,
feeling high,
and you,
find yourself,
wanting more.
But once you wake up,
once the dreams over,
you're hungover,
you're addicted,
and you regret everything.
You try too hard,
lose too much,
and forget yourself,
in the illusion,
of love.