lonesomeness

im running through an empty city and everywhere i turn i see no faces, i see nobody. i always feel alone but i feel so much more alone late at night when i have no one to turn to. and i think about how they sleep while i struggle and i think about how they hurt and how i hurt for them, when i know how i try to be there and keep them from sinking but they never want my comfort, so im owed nothing. i feel as valuable as the paper wrap of a straw. my pain is so much more silent and i want it to be heard, desperately. and i come on here and write about it and think somebody reads this, silently alike. and i wish i had infinite love to give, to everyone and myself. and i wish i could forgive and forget and i wish to show how rotten i really feel on the inside. sometimes i need a hug i can never ask for, i wanna be more than an adrenaline strike for mindless experience seekers, i want to be something more in your eyes. days like these i feel like somebody's life is gonna end tragically just for the theatricality of it, just to paint something on the canvas. i wish to be the cause of something, i want to provoke emotions, memories and cryptic curiousity. its a never ending cycle of desire to be seen and understood, a desire never fulfilled, always chased after maniacally. some people are too selfish to see, they chase appeal and overlook everything, blinded by beautiful thin walls and weak foundations. and the house that can really warm and accommodate you, you dont like the way it fits you, and desperately look for a bed to sleep in and settle for anything but. and i sometimes dont recognize myself, i feel myself growing out of these bones and all these thoughts and emotions do is get bigger and bigger. i feel my life taking form, twisting and turning and bending and molding. so many roads and i dont know which one to take, i dont know how to have what i want. a past slowly forms, a yarn unfolds, everything around me changes and all i can do is watch.