Solitude

Solitude.
Me and my thoughts.
My mind attacks itself
reviving broken memories.

What a way to live
giving into every tear
as an attempt to heal.

Solitude.
It’s never made me falter
Never affected my strength
The warm breeze is nothing but
a reminder of what could have gone next

Solitude
Memories come crashing in
destroying everything as they please.
A power only anger can give.

Solitude.
I wholly give into myself
longing for that extra mile
that extra kiss, that extra smile
That extra day in our old lives.

(The sun rays lightly adorning
my hair as the wind softly kissed my face.
Your hand in mine.
I feel alive.
One of the first last times)

Solitude.
Your weakness strikes me
like a lighting.
A soul-crushing pain
it caused that not even alcohol
would numb.
But you wouldn’t know.

…Solitude.

The cruelty of… life?

To spend your life living in fear, never exploring your dreams, is cruel. To work hard for money, thinking that money will buy you things that will make you happy is also cruel. To wake up in the middle of the night terrified about paying bills is a horrible way to live. To live a life dictated by the size of a paycheck is not really a life. Thinking that a job will make you feel secure is lying to yourself.

That’s cruel.