it's ironic how everything is so trivial
and yet so overwhelming
I'm alone
and its funny how everything loses its luster
and all you want to do is run away
yet where can u go to escape yourself?

Looking at it now,
the rose seems so appropriate
so pleasing to the eye,
the thorns well hidden,
and the beautiful splash of red
as your blood colors it
The pain becoming the beauty
*thats all people want to see*

but now that everything is lit by darkness,
the sunshine no longer cloaks
the things that are unseen.
the everyday objects so pathetic
when laid so bare
~the journey down this path is lonely~

Yet at the same time pain provides comfort
as you bask in the familiar
the rain is nothing but teardrops
to lost illusions and dreams
that lay so tattered and
thrown off to the side

And here there are no companions
you are an INDIVIDUAL
like those you are forgotten
and those you are alone
And here is where i fit into the puzzle

because

the description fits me well