Night time
Less of a poem, more of a vignette.
I’m always so depressed at night, it’s like the fact that I don’t sleep makes me realize that the truth is that no one will every love me because Ill never be normal. So I listen to music and draw until I can’t handle the hollow emptiness of my soul, and then I just lay there. Usually I cry my heart out until I can breathe again, and then i wait for morning. It’s especially painful when I’ve had the illusion of a caring friend and become attached, but then realize that the friend thinks of me as no more than a random acquaintance, and then I cry some more. Just wishing for undivided attention, longing for days when love plagued my mind, even under false circumstances. Which is where I realize that no one has every really loved me, despite my illusions and fake lovers by whom I was used as an illusion myself, to make people feel better about themselves. I cry about that, too.
(2013)
