Untitled #9

Modest and so soft.
Outside’s just for show.
On the interior all is lost.
Relentless ego grows.

Emptyness

Not half- full
Neither half- empty.
Not too short.
Not even lengthy.
Bored to death.
Wasted hours.
All my feelings
They are
All the same
Yet same are none
A chill through my bones
And yet I burn.
All I said, all I wrote,
The entire length of this pointless note
Is as false as the life I live.
Emptiness - All I can give.

Melancholia

Melancholia, - the lonely exception -
I befriend without self preservation.
I dream about dreaming where I belong.
I feel happy listening to a sad song.

Untitled #8

The edge of conversation
Where opinions combine
Mine's as true as yours
Yours' as wrong as mine.