I’m a floating balloon full of depression and crippling thoughts,
My spirit is completely tied in knots.
I’m not sad,
nor happy,
I’m just an echo of a person I used to be.
When one loses faith,
it is left to live in wraith.
It’s truly a thin line between madness and sanity.
Your words were always kind, yet you left me behind.
You’re just a black hole indeed,
I have to concede.
This burden I must bear,
I know it was a serious dare.
Your name rips me open each day,
I can’t seem to act this play.
After all your swings,
I got to learn a few things.
It’s not the heartbreak that kills you,
the void that comes after it does.

Wandering through reality and dreams,
Searching for something to mind unknown.
Lost between happiness and sadness,
The heart craves to beat again.
Scattered on the floor,
My soul is lying dry,
Wetness from tears swiped away long ago.
So I wonder...
Where can I go?
I have been lost for so long only to find myself in ashes at the end of the journey.

Love is a funny game,
And I am just a little insane,
Always losing,
But I play it anyway,
I’ts such a shame.

This poem is for you.
Yes you, who helped me get through so much,
It’s all the little things you do,
That made me believe in miracles and such.
I am a broken mirror,
Yet you still glanced at me,
And saw yourself clearer,
Setting us both free.
You are my anchor,
Even when I’m at my worst you convince me that I’m the best,
We’re fighting together this war,
Shielding each other’s chest.
I’ve never felt empathy,
Nor was I ever understood,
But you seem to chase away my apathy,
With you everything seems good.
Thank you my dearest friend,
For I treasure you beyond this life,
There’s only this love I have that will never end,
With you, I cannot be killed by any knife.

Despair it is to lose all hope,
Yet to still believe,
That your heart and mind can cope,
That freedom you shall receive.

The broken image in the mirror will become anew,
With no cracks to feel,
Darkness withdrew,
Leaving only what’s real.

Shadows cast upon your heart,
Will be a sweet memory,
Such a work of art,
That little tender thing will be.

Your skin innocent and soft,
Shall be your favorite shield,
Your soul going aloft,
To a sacred field.

Feel that blood,
Rushing through your veins,
it makes a flood,
Amongst those beautiful remains.

A broken dream this has always been,
For human life is cruel,
This false hope has become a sin,
Indeed, I must be a fool.

Ideal am I for looking at,
The price of me is love,
Foolish is that,
Thinking you would pay such cost for a little dove.
Deceived into it,
I gave my heart,
At the end it split,
Tearing everything apart.
You played with me,
Such a wonderful play,
I thought I would be loved and free,
You threw me away.
Broken I am anew,
Feeling only grief,
You can never sew,
A doll with no belief.