Our lives lead down solitary roads;
Yet, these roads lie so close
How so often then must we just miss
A soul who could share our woes?

If I want my gypsy life,
My solitary dream
It does require a sacrifice,
More than I can exprime.

Car dans ma vie bohémienne,
Je dois me tenir seule
Même si mes sentiments m’amènent
À vouloir être en deux.

Je sais que dans ce jeu de rime
Je râte ; quand-même, j’essais
Car sûr mon cœur tes yeux s’impriment :
La lumière that day.

The candlelight that twirled and danced
And lit up eyes and hair
As deep inside something woke, pranced
And breathed a fresh, new air.

This was something I'd never had:
Un sentiment profond
Regretfully I leave, though sad;
Mais l'route gitane, c'est longue !

A heavy heart lies
Beneath her chest.
Thoughts she’d love to share
But no one would have guessed.
At night she retires
All alone in bed
Wishing–
That there could be someone
(Or something)
To be her reason for living.


*tell me, where's the good in goodnight?

Keyring's clinking on my cut time stride
under lights, buzzing islands in the ink sea night.
Slink away from my murky years,
                  they're piling up
and I'm hunched, walking dumb
          across the hazard yellow lines.

Behind me
          the night just rolls up
almost outruns me to my front doorstep.
                                                The hungry
hills enclose
                    our mid-size
                    opaque town.

Old partners,
          forgotten crimes we
did and left trails of clues, all gutshot
                                       creep hunching
through this skull
                      beneath a
                      fraying cap.

Keyrings jangle like anxieties
in my chest, humming static in the core of me.
Sinking in to familiar tones;
                  shades purple grey.
And it's cold, striding slow
          through the west side warehouse lots.

Behind me
          the teeming sidewalks
shout half-slurred spears at my back retreating.
                                                The half-light
spills itself
                    on wrinkled,
                    trenching brows.

And out there
          the night just rolls up
to darken the mat by your front doorstep.
                                                You're just a
single thought
                    and several
                    miles away.

What is wrong?
What am I missing?
I cannot seem to be
My very best,
Among the rest,
Profess my honesty.

How to feel?
How can I see?
Pure happiness within.
Between the lines,
I try to read,
Let imagination in.

Where is he?
Where am I?
Crossings are yet to be.
All these words
All my works
Each of 'em lonely.

Why do I ask?
Why would I dare?
I have everything I need.
Remind myself to appreciate
Love myself, forget hate.
**I have all my time to dream.

They all persuade you that you’ll be okay,

But where are they when you need them most?

When you choke on insecurities, screams captured in blood and tears; when you drown in the black abyss of your own misery.

You drown alone.

No ‘You’ll be okay’ or ‘it gets better’ can swat away the negative energy that latches onto your every thought.

Isolated. You reach out to those who mean the most to you;

They turn their backs,

They walk away from you.

The fragile pieces that make your body shatter, all energy, thought, light escapes you.

When you walk in the black fog you walk alone.

When you face depression, you stand alone.

Solitary.

Why can't the one I love share what I do?

If I could only
move-
among the crowds
unnoticed;
Among the sounds
unheard;
Among the hate
unturned
and among the fire,
unburnt!

If I could only-
breath,
with no lungs in my chest;
If I could-
see the light
with no sight left;
If I could-
speak with my chords cut,
and when there’s no more
smiles around
if I could smile,
to show who am I!

When asked to kneel
if I could stand straight;
When asked to march
If I could break my legs;
When asked to speak
if I could forget the thoughts
they put in my head,
then I guess,
I would become a man!

A man,
that lives by itself,
that speaks for himself,
that cries and dies
only for himself!
Only for him, and no one else!
And that, my friends,
would be an easy life–
I think; I guess!