helpless.
it’s a shame to feel like
you can never be alone.
that something will always eat
away at you. and i’m tired of
writing about the same ol’ damn
thing which has never gott-
en me anywhere. i feel
helpless and i’m tired of asking
for favors. friends are my
taxi and although i feel
higher than that of them i’m
sure it’s the only way they feel.
i’m a terrible friend.
i’m helpless and i make little
money. my lifestyle won’t adjust.
i’m addicted to the green which
helps me cope. nature is all
i believe in; i’ve said it before and
i’ll say it again. i like riding the
bus—i feel like everyone else—
which is oddly comforting,
why does everyone want to stand
out? i feel worthless unless there’s
another body next to me. not anybody,
but someone i
want there. to bounce
ideas, share the love,
what are you when
you’re alone? i don’t necessarily
feel lonely, just alone. i can
handle lonely, but perhaps not
alone. but what’s worse, is
when you’re not alone
and still feel lonely.
their soul is distant—they
bare none. and i bare
all—that’s half the fun
so you can’t test me ‘cos
i’ve already won and
i have no answers but one
is SPUN—getting there is easy.
but another heart beat near is
easier. the hardest part is being
alone, i want to make it with
you—find the it with each other,
in each other, for each other.
but more so, i want to make it alone.
