it's too bad there is nothing we can do.

here's a sonnet i had to write for class today and forgot about, so i wrote it in ten minutes or less.

our nights together down the road

we walk together on lonely nights,
still alone, and you, dead;
distant from the humming, city lights,
i think again of what you said.
it's truly hard, you know this.
our separation from life extends
were i to leave, i question who might miss
a face where eye and smile pretends
and saw once that no one cares
to hear my words, they sit there still,
waiting i feel, to transmit theirs.
remind me, oh please, to forget until
we are both acquainted with these nights, here.
for it doesn't matter much, i guess, to fear.


there you have it. a little block of my mind. Life lived by other people, i feel. and if we were all here together now, then maybe none of us would be so desperately lonely. but don't worry, because my problems aren't real. none of this is really real.