DurtyDeeds93

Exclusion, Acceptance or was it an illusion Of an need to belong I was most likely wrong again Begin again Never make the same mistakes, I thought But did I Or is my mind wrought With the fact maybe I just am not Or ever will be Acceptance Is the only way through

The leaves fall on the ground Rotting, desiccating as they lie Until the wind comes Blows them away Much like the transient friend you are Only when its for your advantage Do you talk Speak ill only And then expect open arms Then as the leaves you are gone until next season

I see you Phantom of the past Everywhere I go We were one Until we became no more Now I just see us In the rearview mirror

I live in a state of infinite loss Weaving and twisting sorrows Often unknown and unbeknownst to me I re-live the moments again and again Memories remain Until I ascertain my faults Walk away Run away Hide It's the only out I have Regressive Depressive

Drowning in sorrow Through waves of emotions Conjuration of imminent pain Do I follow the destructive path I can't explain this My head is full of commotion Depart The revelation is too much

Desire without purpose Desire with unrequited possibilities Tiring Exhausting Looking back Forgetting to move Forward Stalemate Dead Limbo Boldly gone Nowhere in Solitude

I remember the talks before I remember the night we shared Turned into day Bodies intertwined, inseparable Hungry like a first hunt Our love the catch The band aid was ripped The wounds healed; still seeping Gone but not forgotten A sober reality A brutality of the death Of love No longer your number one Here I sit In pathetic nostalgia

When they leave The void is still there The pain intense The lack of evidence presented by the defendant Leaves me intent on wondering why you left Why I am not worthy of a word A letter, a note, a bye

To absent friends, we're no longer talking, speaking or seeing eye to eye. What was once a friendship based on brotherhood, is best left to the grave. I am not stricken with grief over your untold grievance, your silence is noted and accounted for. The divergence was unexpected, unannounced, but was it called for? Maybe? Grown apart? Maybe? But to do so much for a person and receive nothing in return, is that just? Is it equal? Our friendship is an aberration in time, a phenomena that will be forgotten like a dying star, the light flickers. In this time granted, we grew and apparently I grew too much for you to control, to understand. This

My thirtieth year on this earth and I have not moved mountains, or attained great wealth. I've seen it peddled as a cure-all to the hopelessness which is loneliness. Wealth trickles and stagnates, not only life but blood, turning those who possess it into undeserved gods and vapid husks of humanity. My thirtieth year, I wake daily to bills and tasks which consume for naught. All the ideals I've been taught, collapse under the weight of truth. Destruction is a creative urge, I tell myself. Solace is in random notes, words written on dirty napkins with thoughts of the night on a binge of sorrow. My thirtieth year I've let emotions control my