Crowded House


This is terrifying.

You’ve coaxed me into this room

With the intoxicating, sound, smell and sight of you.

But all the seats are taken. 

And I can only stand there

As you claim that you want and need me,

As you do nothing to make room.


And I stand there.

Goosebumps replaced

By my heart,

Beating at an accelerated pace.

I’d given it permission to beat for you,

Ready to give it freely, rather than loan it 



But all of your guests are still there

The past,

The present.

There is no room

For a future with me.

And as I walk out,

I turn back to see 

That I’ve already been forgotten.


We don’t say the things that need to be said, so afraid of what we’ll hear in response, and instead choose to fill our lives with silence, or the oppressive sound of useless chatter. We neglect to do the things that need doing, so burdensome do we find responsibility, so we do the unnecessary, ironically taking consequence for foolish deeds instead. We speak from the urge to keep our deepest feelings suppressed and act based on the desperation to hide how much others mean to us. Yet we are never more expressive, in word and deed, when all the meaningless words and fruitless actions leave us misunderstood. And this is why so many people are so very deeply unhappy and will remain perpetually unfulfilled.