So Alone

Its ironic how I can sit here among a whole group of people and still feel
so alone.
I am here, and yet not here;
I am listening, and yet it doesn't really matter...

I hate the after-hours, yet perversely I love them;
The hours after library, after friends, after this life,
When the plastic pretensions and vile veneers that have become "me" are stripped away
And all that's left is the brute beneath
Reflecting upon the nauseating emptiness
Of this inconsequential existence
so alone

Remember being happy
me neither

au revoir pour le moment

~LovingYearningHurting~