She is always so stressed,
and it makes her so depressed.
No one seems to notice her sadness,
because they notice her madness.
Everyday she's terrified,
and no ones by her side.
All she wants is a friend,
which she can depend.

As she lay beside me
I could see the way her skeleton
Stretched out under her skin
Thin, and seemingly frail
I sat in wonder
What kind of life have these bones lived
She was real, and she was alive
But something told me
She was already dead inside
From the lies she told me
To the tales that unfolded me
To the love she would just throw away
She was dependent on attention
Yet, this wasn't enough to appease
The darkness as her demons teased
What is her fate?
I don't know
But hell I would love to see her emotions grow
Into something she felt so long ago
Back to the smiles that has long since passed

I sometimes wonder if I have a problem.
From drinking in bars, to ***** basements.
To late night crashes with beings.
I couldn't care about even if I wanted to.
Because all I ever wanted was you.
And every time my lip touches that cold glass.
I think of your cold skin.
Because you chose to stop being.
You let your demon's take you from within.
In that moment you were no longer being.
You stopped being.
And I stopped being.
Who I wanted to be
And now I am just one of those troubled souls.
Replacing the taste of you
With something new.
The burn of whisky.
The smell of the alcohol on my breath.
My body screams, "STOP!"
But my mind says,"what for...?"
So here I am.
Stuck in this cold cell.
Dealing with this burning hell.
Remind me of the things we were.
And the love you took away.
So this drink is for you, my love.
Let it burn my throat.
So no one can hear my screams.
And let it warm my insides.
So I can pretend I'm me.

For Every Ten Words I write there are 10  Unspoken