Am I lost, or am I free wandering aimlessly away. I’ve been left behind by those who refuse to dream-

We will meet again perhaps when the sun stops rising or when the moon turns sapphire blue.

When the truth hits you hard, when reality slaps you in the face, when you see that the world isn’t so nice after all, and when most of the things you thought were true

I sit in a bathtub of sorrow, blankly staring at the drain where I had washed away, no, scrubbed off the sin, the guilt, the regret.

  My best friend is something special. There is more to him than just the surface of his lightly browned skin, the downcast of his chestnut eyes behind the windows of a black frame,

I wonder how easy it is for someone to say they no longer love you.

With you there is beauty in silence, a comfort of belonging and acceptance; however, when left with my own thoughts, silence is far from beautiful.