Do you recognise yourself,
all of yourself–
on days when you can barely make it to your dresser,
without questioning your motivation to get out of bed?

Do you recognise freedom,
if you’ve never lost yours;
if you’ve only ever seen it taken,
in books, and plays, and songs, and films–
do you then truly understand its loss?

Do you recognise hopelessness,
when thinking about your future?
of how you will grow,
and who you will be,
do you see a glimmer, a shimmer,
of hope for thee?

“I want to go home” I often say to myself,
sometimes when I am at home–
which leads me to believe,
that home is elsewhere for me,
far from the dredges of this world,
and its void of people.

I like walking alone,
because it resonates in my soul–
the lonesome that shall be,
forever my honest companion.

He who is my muse, holds such a dire place in my world–
amidst the oddities of my mind,
and the demons of my heart.