It's Lonely In Here.

It's lonely in here
When I crawl into bed
Thinking about the lines that you fed

It's lonely in here
Just me and my dreams
Wishing for once it was not how it seems

It's lonely in here
At a quarter to ten
When I realize, maybe I do hate men

It's lonely in here
Realizing I'm to blame
I knew the rules when I started the game

It's lonely in here
Hoping it would change once for me
But at the end of tomorrow all things will still be

It's lonely in here
And so as am I
As I lay here alone, I ask myself why.

Bravo Auteur

your poems are so verbose, so grandiloquent.

they are swollen, oratorical, bombastic.

they dance across my mind, like a ballerina floats across the stage.

she's lifted, and your prose is lifted into my consciousness.

she spins, and i spin as i read each sentence.

she's on her toes, and i'm on mine waiting for what's next.

i read on, line after planetary line.

the ballerina pliés in succession, as i move from word to effortless word.

she dances swiftly with her partner, as the imagery does so down the page.

and she bows as the curtain draws to a close, as you bow once as your balladry departs.

do you ever wish you were someone else
do you ever wish you were not your self

The hustle of the everyday keeps me from this place.
The hastened pace of the rat race prevents my escape.
I'm chained and I feign contemplated contentment.
I'm undermining my sentiment and my true resentment.

Forcing the evacuation from my complacent mind.
I evaluate the absent lucidity and hope I can rewind.
I'm a stranger in my atmosphere and consistently depart.
Hoping for familiar in the winds that I impart.

Pen.

I've been away from here,
I've forgotten where I've been.
I've been away so long,
All I needed was this pen.
I scribble letters and words,
I don't know what they mean.
But then I pick up this pen,
And I'm whole again.

My heart. You.

My heart feels so warm just to be near you.
My heart skips a beat just when I hear you.

Death of love.

Does true love really last or is it fleeting?
That one feeling inside when you look into one's eyes.
Is that constant or only found upon first meeting?
Love it grows cold and it slowly takes off its disguise.
Once the fantasy departs and you begin your cheating.