Icy

Missing

when love speaks
to my heart,
it must be traveling
without a DAMN
map, cause
it gets lost
in the translation…

A Place

What happens when we live in a place that is not ours?
Living in a place without a voice or an affect, or a place to be, okay.
A place where everyone else is right, and you are wrong.  A place where, 'a place to belong' is nonexistent; where your thoughts, ideas, and things are considered to be in the way of everyone elses way.
Living in a place of connection that no one else feels.
A place where everyone else is always screaming, "LOVE ME! HEAR ME! I AM IMPORTANT TOO!"  And yet... you are just an other, an other whom is unworthy and taking up their place and is never loving, or hearing, or seeing them.
A place where there is always an us and a them, and nothing in between.
A place to cry for loneliness and overwhelmingness, concurrently.
A place where this is the human existence, and yet... no one else has a fucking clue that everyone else feels the same way.

a-void

indifferent is neither and nor but,
but always without a care to give,
and so very different than different,
in an out sorta way;
indifferent, not always good
nor bad and not so distant
from a far cry
between
stillness and silence;
where answers lurk...

Weeds

Obscure

A path for hiking, hidden beneath  
briers and weeds and decaying leaves;
dry crunches of forsaken heath,
trees bending and twisting, grieves

for the sun's light to embrace the scene
in an inflamed fit of lust and greed;
an adventure of sites unseen
like words in poems she'll never read.