Solitude

I'm at the point, the breaking point, I'll stay in my room forever, I'll write poems about life, Wishing i didnt say what i said to her. Watching the clock drain my time, And waiting for the solemn day I die. Damn OCD. I shut the door. My loves can't hear the teardrops. I like it that way. If they heard them, I bet they wouldn't stay. I sit there thinking. I think about how empty "love" is, I take that fact, from the memories i reminisce. I think about my friends. I think about, how in 10 years, I won't remember their middle name, their birthdays, how when i needed them, they would magically appear. It makes my grin turn again. I think about life and death. How time is an immortal curse, How it doesn't matter who dies first, And how I wish heaven was real. I find some sense of resolve, After I think I've got no shot, I picture a face, a time, a place, And I start firing all I've got.