If there was a biography about you, what would the title be?

Where do you go,

in the stills of your mind

When you’re all alone,

the quiet times.

Where do you go,

when you’re all alone?

Driving down the road,

The air blowing cold.

Is it to a snow covered place,

With hills of old.

Full of depressive memories,

shaded blue and gold.

Or maybe a place,

Covered in grey,

Where the memory flows,

Erupt long hidden pains.

Tell me. Where do you go?

In the still of the night,

When the pain goes blow for blow.

A hormonal sucker punch,

Teardrops steadily flow.

What do you do?

When the confusion sets in?

From struggling to find yourself

A destroyer at war,

Full stream, from within.

Do you cry in a ball?

Fuss, Shout and Scream?

Or simply stay silent

And pray it’s all a dream?

Please tell me where do you go?

Constantly behind the phone screen.

What do you do,

Without being perceived as mean?

See me lose my mind,

One moment at a time

All I can say,

Is I’m trying anyways.

I love this I know,

I just can’t see past what I’m shown.

So what do you do,

In the stills of your mind?

When you feel so lonely & invisible

all of the time?