i guess i was the one
foolish enough to believe
that maybe
we might have made it,
to prove fate wrong
and outlive even our own fears.
now i see that i
was just another form
of therapy to you,
an escape from the every day
a hiding place from your demons.
i wish i had realised
that i was just another idea
before i pulled down my walls
one brick at a time,
forgetting that my heart
was only ever
made from paper.

I have grown alot,
In many different ways,
No longer do I have Such hidden rage, Instead I let it out,
My thoughts are the ink That glides across the page,
My soul is no longer Locked in a cage, And even after I'm gone,
My mind is immortal,
It will last for an age....