One: My emotions are enormous and I’m on the brink of a collapse.

 

I’ve seen six cars pull u-turns today,

 

Most of them were trying to catch a parking spot,

 

But it still felt dangerous and chaotic.

 

The grass under a street lamp was wet

 

and it looked like someone had spilled

 

a million little diamond shards

 

                  on the lush green carpet of nature.

 

I just want to curl up under a bush, while ten thousand years pass me by,

 

And cry.

 

Will the future ever be clear?

 

 

 

Two: You can’t pay me to not isolate.

 

Cover yourself and hide within the caverns of your mind.

 

Surround yourself with dirt and peel away the walls.

 

“No one comes around here anymore,” the judge says to the security guard as he’s locking up just past midnight.

 

This town doesn’t feel the same with all the doors locked and no good-mornings, or good-nights.

 

I can’t remember my last good night,

 

But

 

Secretly…

 

I fucking love this,

 

And could nurse the fear forever.

 

 

 

Three: It’s time to give up, I’m surrounded.

 

The tv blares in the background and I scroll through insta, tweet-sphere, and the book of faces faster than I can understand what I’m seeing.

 

But I’m still sitting here cold, isolated, and lonely.

 

For a society with constant online engagement, and information & connectivity at the punch of a button, why do I feel like no one knows me.

 

Someone,

 

Call me!

 

I need to explore my dreams, and vent my disturbances.

 

My brain does somersaults when I try to explain that we are more connected than ever, thanks to the interwebs.

 

But are we really connecting?

 

How did my last promotion make me feel?

 

What was my biggest dream last year?

 

Who is my secret crush,

 

and who am I fucking?

 

Either no one cares, or society has crumbled…

 

crumbled into us all being alone, ghosts passing through each other with mild formalities and forgotten sneers,

 

smiles plastered on our billboard-like faces.

 

Mental and physical loneliness, a real pain tbh.

 

I may just die without anyone ever really knowing me.

 

 

Just like in all my past lives.

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Timothy Arliss OBrien is an artist in music composition and writing. He hosts the podcast The Poet Heroic and has created and published several zines of poetry. www.timothyarlissobrien.com