I'm doing it again.

I spend my free time locked away

In this room, sitting in front of my monitor

Writing bad poetry and commenting on that of others

I shelter behind screen names and MP3's

For when I leave, all hell will break loose.

I am attacked

From all sides

Daggers of guilt will find my vital organs

Flames of resentment will lap at my heels

As I run

My top speed

Run from the dark waters that are the lake of loneliness

The ocean of self-pity and misguided care.

Relentless storms of bullets rain down upon me,

The scornful words they throw so casually

The pleading voices they use regularly

I fight back.

And I lose.

In the end, I must retreat.

And so I shut myself in this room

With the click of my keyboard

And I write more bad poetry.

If I'm lucky, someone will read it

Someone will care

If I'm lucky.