Im sorry little one.

You are not as golden as you think you were.
You will be colored gloom and gray,
and everything will be a blur.

You cry an awful lot,
all you need is an embrace
But then you will learn to conceal it with a straight face

You will suffer with fear, grief and rage,
Your solitary will be a tragedy in a small stage.

Im sorry little one, you are only a child.
Still, this is the recollection of your youth all filed.

Eventually, though...
You will grow..
Into me.

Collectively, we will flourish on healing.

they don’t believe me
they don’t believe me
they don’t believe me
they don’t believe me

maybe if I repeat it enough it will lull me into some sense of calm
it will become a fact, not a knife through my chest

The silver glinting edge shines inches away
It's like un itchable scratch
An unquenchable thirst
An unsatisfyable hunger
It's so close
It beggs to consumed
It beggs be drowned in crimson pain
It beggs to eat away the perfect canvas
It's so close
Just one more
Just one more
Just one more
It's so close
A sighlent voice only I can hear
"You could do it you know"
"It wouldn't be that hard"
It's so close
It's begging makes me cave.

My scars run deep.
Memories of pain etched
Where the metal kisses skin.
Even though the pain
Doesn’t seep,
The guilt flows heavy
With the red waves
And shame wraps it’s arms
Around me like a blanket
As I stand gripping the scissors
Willing the world to just
Stop

My human experience is paused
I used to think crying all the time was the worst way to be
but now that I feel numb I’d take back the tears just to feel something
being able to cry is better than feeling basically nothing

He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.