This being has always
been my refuge. My brittle
mind was never worth a penny.
But a token she had given me.
As of now, I would be lucky
to see a strand of her brown locks.
 
Maybe it is wrong of me
to expect so much out of
one little person. Who am
I to ask someone to care.
I'd never tell even a muted
ear of my broken soul. In
all of honesty, death does not
seem that horrible, not as
terrifying as they make it
seem.
   
I think I am strong
enough to end it all now.
For months my refuge veered me
off of this course, but she
has left me defenseless against
the monsters, my monsters.