isolated...

in the silence of knowing things are not as good as the smile upon the face... better days has passed when sitting alone drifting on thoughts that try to escape... changing expressions worn as truths show life beneath the mask... sitting behind closed doors is the safest place to hide waiting on time to elapse... not wanting to be self in the makings of who is to come from the solitude's discomfort... pretending it's all as breezy as the wind attempting to not admit luv jus fuckin hurts... from inside out only the mirror can witness depths surface from outta nowhere... rearranging emotion as use is a thing gone to the liking of fear... rambling in the dark n becoming ones own best friend... appearing to be a nut job with trust issues as no one else is to blame to who the heart was lent... choices from the other side of swinging doors reflect on the opened chest too willing to give... finding there's not one person allowed to comfort even the skin so life can live... sheltered is the path chosen to overcome decisions that have never seen real intent... as the walls collect sound unheard that's trapped within too much time alone as the recollection vents... fading away from the belief in others damages the mind's eagerness to adapt to someone else's ways... for it's always the retraction of self jus past the ends of relations forgetting names...

in a place unreachable something goes terribly wrong... once the healing procedure wraps around to the not needing anyone to complete how the experience has come along... lies form in the eyes as desires crave to reattach themselves to another... yet, the power to step to the line isn't strong enough to withstand the blow of jus some luv'r... having a deeper purpose creating a new type of pain is the confliction causing a battle to take place... one in which very few can realize is even happening for they feel the vibe sending signals as attachments are said to be games... n to play one hasta dig further to find that raw tenderness clinging to the texture's hope... needing to be extracted as if worth gave up on the purity of jus wanting to go the fuck home... a dream of some sort fed to the memory as a remembrance of how people switch shit up... residing in the afterthought going through a phase where it's self that defines what is to what will be from what was... in moments where if feels the world that surrounds ones own imperfections can jus disappear... damn near bipolar as passion spikes the flat line to revive the sensitive side of dripping tears... keeping the human intuition alert of what's happening down under the nerves crawling for shelter... desperately seeking a way to reemerge from the hidden dispute of what to do as the dweller... going back n forth on some idiocy due to someone else's effect they've been able to establish... slow to realize it's a weakened state of being to continue to to carry the baggage which in its own is madness... though it takes courage to let the core be enjoyed by a stranger who is as foreign as unknown... to sit with them long enough to either be a waste of time or somehow finally meet a mate who's cover is blown... in the stillness one thinks to resurrect the dead uselessness of disbelief... reinventing a better version of a well rounded force to be reckoned with so all those flutters can eventually breathe...