A funeral is my mind.
Where former lovers
and silver-tongued liars
attend their wake.

I spare no life when I can take.

An invitation from God
is what you’d need to depart.
But there is no God to be found here,
only your grievances and faults.

Stand steadfast and ready,
my reviled lovers and liars.
You’re in my dark abyss now
and you’ve taken your final bow.

Your procession has arrived.

We all broke our rules for someone unkind,
Lust and pretty words can make you blind.

Sometimes echoes of past mistakes will slip beyond the dark line,
Do not cling to old memories while making new ones this time.

Begin to trust that your instincts will guide you true,
Decide to choose yourself instead of letting others choose you.

In the beginning…
I remember that once I was a calm sea
I had always let others dictate how my life should be
But thanks to you, I’ve awakened to the harsh realities
That the only person who has my best interests at heart is me

You may run your mouth, spew your hatred behind my back
Your trivial nonsense will get no rise out of me
For I am now a wrathful storm hell bent on revenge
So I bring with me the power of lightning and thunder
And with the promise of never returning
I pull you under

Now that you see who I really am
Should you test my limits once again
That will be the last time you ever see the sun
Because I am the rage you created…
And I am done.

I am the pretty thing that lives under your house.
You left me there to rot, to be forgotten
like a flower that's never been watered and withers.
So how ironic must it be
to see a single rose bloom from my grave?

I am the pretty thing that stands next to your bed,
watching your chest rise and fall.
I bend down to whisper in your ear
and though you may have taken my voice,
the air coils and delivers my message.
Standing, I withdraw to the shadows.

I am the pretty thing whose face suddenly appears
in the dark space of your twisted mind
where you thought you buried me for good.
Gasping for breath, you wake up drenched in sweat.
You wonder if you're being irrational or going crazy.

I am the pretty thing that came back.
How lovely it is to make you insane!
You look beautiful in that straight jacket,
surrounded by alabaster walls with no windows.
It's only when you’re finally captured that you drop all pretense,
professing that it’s my blood that is forever stained on your hands.

I am now the pretty thing with a dagger in my smile.

After a storm comes a rainbow they say
But the storm ripped the roof off my house
The storm drowned my entire family
The storm left me with nothing
So now
The rainbow doesn't mean that much

As the smoke clears
I am left with the perfect image
Of the destruction I caused.
Here the air is heavy,
The weight of my mistakes
occupies all of the space in my lungs.
And tonight,
As I stand alone,
The urge to etch my flaws
Into my skin
Overwhelms me.
It craves the kiss of cold metal.
I am fighting a never ending battle
And my body keeps the score.

Whispering winds, the rustling of trees,
Amidst the green, a bench and quiet pleas.
A solace found, where sorrows nest,
My weary heart, finds silent rest.

A sturdy bench, with a strong wooden frame,
Supports the weight, of sorrows I daren't name.
Overcast clouds, crowd my mind in a storm,
Here on this bench, holds melancholy form.

Searching outside, of my internal struggles,
Happiness everywhere, just me with these troubles.
Family picnics, kids play on the hill,
Friends laugh together, as I sit frozen still.

How do they do it, I can't help but wonder,
they dance in the sunshine, while I'm stuck in the thunder.
No sadness to be seen, just smiles and glee,
I can see that it's possible, but is it possible for me?

But then I remember, as the day comes and goes,
We all have our moments, our highs and our lows.
Today I might be here, sat alone in the rain,
But Tomorrow may bring me, to the sunshine again.

My body is my own worst enemy
Trapped.
inside - and stuck
Inside - with no escape
from the claws of this illness that
take hold of me

Rage - it pours from me
still, even though I have
no energy
left

I am left with scraps of
who I once was
- - and now?
What am I but a shadow of a previous
copy version of me  

I yearn and I grieve and I plead
but I am led yet again and again
to an endless tunnel of dread
that fills me to the brim
with nothing left but
the face of the victim
staring back at me in the mirror

I fear so much and so often -
this weakness has a grip so fierce on me
this sickness that has stolen so much from me
this demon has ****** and fed
on every bit of strength I have bled
of every bit of happiness I have shed
and left me with -
nothing

Nothing but empty vacancy
That is how it feels to be stuck
inside
a body that can no longer feel
normalcy

My body is my own worst enemy
Trapped.
inside - and stuck
inside - with no escape
So here I stay
Stuck and inside - and
Trapped
with no escape