You are my unsent message.
The cursor blinking rhythmically,
With my heartbeat,
Waiting,
For me to hit send.
But I am not ready,
And I’m not sure if I ever will be
So I left it like that.
Unsent. Unseen. Unread.
“I miss you.”

Eyes are the window to the soul,

But what if,

You don't have one of those?

When I was little
I was scared
Scared of the monsters living under my bed
I used to hide, under my blanket
Under my blanket, I was safe
The monsters couldn’t reach me under my blanket

My parents used to say
The monsters would go away
I would grow up and that then they would leave

But I grew up
And the monsters didn’t leave
Turns out my monsters, grew with me
Now instead of under my bed
The monsters live inside my head

So I hide, under my blanket
Where I think I am safe
Wondering if after all this time
My blanket can still keep the monsters at bay

Sitting. Thinking. Doing.
Nothing.
Trying. Failing. Faking.
Something.
Smiling. Consuming. Swallowing.
Everything.
Absorbing. Accruing. Attacking.
Anything.
But soon that
All will
Be
Nothing.

I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye

Silent letters to you,
empty messages,
hoping you'll get them,
with no clues,
cause if I tell you I love you,
as I've done every night before,
I'll realize I love you,
more than I have before,
so spare me the torture,
and acknowledge my games,
since we're not the same,
my writing must change