Fossils...

And in my head I find the fossils of those I had left for dead… 

My thoughts awash with the regrets of being. I stumble through another days folly with nary a scratch on the surface… but inside I hemorrhage uncontrollably… I speak in lines of prose and promise but I never feel I can be honest, as if my true feelings can never be excepted. I feel I don’t connect… as if I am stuck on the AM dial while the world has moved on to bigger and better. How is it possible to never feel excepted, as if there is always something left in the cold… unwanted… 

I wish I could rewrite my inner workings, it feels like there are so few people who operate on the same wave length. Even when I have companionship I can feel so alone. When I feel I might lose something my first instinct is to burn it before I can be hurt… Better to be in control of your own fate rather than the victim. It’s really no wonder I have trouble relating to people with all of this dysfunction. 

I seem to only be good for people in small increments… I realize that I must always keep my distance because no matter what I do I burn the things I care about most. 

I feel great satisfaction and peace in my separate life… where I alone exist… however I feel great strife when speaking of my interaction with others…