She lived like a smudge.
Nothing defined her yet somehow, everything did.
She was hard to comprehend and easy to spill.
Her ink well personality confused all, most of all herself.
Prominent and invisible she liked to tie things up with words.
Writing poetry and imagining new worlds.
No one quite knew what was wrong with her and few dared to ask.
She got used to living with lies, she got good at making her own.
Weaving and watching she tailored her mask.
If she let you in, she would be your everything,
observant as a hawk and shy as a mouse,
she would steal your thoughts and morph them with her own.
Mirror face she reflected everything you wanted,
a personalised friendly home.
If she wasn’t so complicated and sad,  
she would be unitive.
She could be anyone but no one distinctive.
Slowly the lying and hiding started to break her mask,
melting like candle wax her brain began burning.
She couldn’t hide any longer
when she tried it was too obvious.
people stared raw and obnoxious.
Medusa exposed she tried to hide.
She hated life and it showed.
Her brain taught her ways to cope,
and some days it whispered, “just don’t”.
Nihilism is too subtle.
Her life quickly became about survival.
Trying to get to heaven seemed the most viable option,
hell had lasted long enough,
She put her life up for auction.
She never saw if heaven existed after all,
She decided if I am to live, I will live for love.

I wish you understood that this is me trying.
I'm not as perfect as you expect me to be,
I did a great job pretending,
but my will is ending.
please just let me be a nothing,
let me breathe fresh air and not be trying to prove something!
let me cry because I'm sad,  
and not have to justify that.
let me be, please just let me be!
because if I don't stop pretending,
there will be no me,
left to be.

There are a thousand things I wish you knew,  
then I remember you do,
you know a lot.
You just don't understand,
and that's a thousand times worse.

I'm spinning around again.
I'm still dreaming things I shouldn't
and drinking too much, as if it will make a difference,
and everyone can see it.
They say insanity is being in love
But insanity is hoping you might be too.

God! men are damnable creatures!
I'm beginning to see why people believe you are female.
Why did you make them so insufferably ignorant and belittling and mean!
They don't need to be that keen!
Why the attraction?
I don't understand!
Why make them fools to feed from our hands?
I like most better at a distance,
Distance enough,
So I can sniff out their intentions.
Call each one's bluff.
There are but a few I must admit
that don't gawk like sharks
at us "little" fish.
So what makes them differ
from the harshest there is
Why are some men like demons and
others well...perfect?

Hello again, I thought we had spoken about this.
The entering without knocking it knocks me out.  
I want you out, now!
You won't.
You'll hang around until February try killing me in January and give me a break at Christmas.
Like clockwork, you arrive yet every time I'm surprised because there's no way to prepare for what you're like.  
You show no remorse, no shame just a living death, full of hate. That's you.  
Now try telling someone that everything you do is you but not you and on and on it ensues.  
It's deadly, like a supplement of poison that no one sees until you go into anaphylactic shock and maybe just maybe someone will realise who knocked.  
The invisible killer that likes to watch their victims suffer, You just love the suffering.  
Just when I think the antidote is kicking in you slap me again.  
You make my home feel like a prison it's so dark so cold and there's no escape and no one can see you're not home.
Just hoping there's still a home to go to after the war.
Every year you break a little more.
Then when I'm broken I sit waiting, rebuilding, wishing.
Praying you don't knock on my door.

Black slip-on pumps blending with the black nylon tights and the hem of a petite black dress.  
Tears of distress.
Funeral attire that's what I see, when I see you.
If I said you would last much longer  
I'd be a liar.
You're fading and I'm breaking.
Don't let my last memory of you be your funeral.