being alone empty house

Overwritten Despondency

every breath I take is another mistake, each exhalation, lingering in this lonely space..
i'd love to just break down & cry.. but puff, pass, i'll let out another deep sigh.. 
the taste of your skin is like... pale sin.
& your smile as dead as the love that's spiraling downward into the drains of past content..
it filters out all the shit.
your eyes feel like daggers, when they're on me..
maybe that's why you can't truly see.. why do you even bother to criticize me.. why hasn't God set me free..?
like a fish, starving.. going in circles, de-sha-vu, I don't remember you..
but my intuition tells me otherwise.
an insect, hearing it's last words...
crushed, beneath the foot of mankind.. what sort of man is really all that kind..?
a bird, rattled in a cage.. shaken up.. absorbing rage..
being fed the scum that's left, to hold you sustained..
it's like not being able to turn to the next page..
& everyone keeps writing over the page i'm on, & telling me to read it once again.. & again.
until it's all scribbles, on top of one another.. it makes no sense..
you might as well be spitting on me... this is an overwritten despondency...

Empty house

im not lonely i enjoy my own company
unlike everyone else
on the other hand there something odd
about an empty house
like getting shivers when its pretty warm
maybe its because the house it old
but it shouldnt be so cold
or maybe im wrong and im alone after all
and it isnt the house i can hear in the walls
maybe i am touch hungry looking for human heat
but i can do nothing to change it or make the house warmer
ill have to just settle for a blanket and socks on my feet.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

oddest ryhme scheme i have ever used.

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