Someone once asked me
If I was afraid of the dark.
No, I replied.

The dark is not my enemy.
She is my friend,
And has always been there.

The light is fleeting,
Leaving one blinded
In its wake.

But the dark remains,
Slowly creeping,
Embracing the mind.

Regardless of past.
Of horrible thoughts,
And heavy emotions.

She comforts me
In solitude,
And has never left me since.

Is that horrible silence
The only part of you that I can remember?

I tried, but...
I don't think it's for the best.

Staying with you-
All I ever wanted.

You gave me everything.
But it was all a lie.

I told you I loved you.
You never did the same.

Every day, every night.
I thought about you.

That we loved each other,
That we could be together.

I truly believed.
For a few, short moments.

The longer I am in silence,
The less it is quiet.

An imaginary tune,
Soft sounds of my breathing,

There is no such thing as silence.
Except in my mind,

Where I cannot think
Except to feel this stinging pain.

The leftovers of addiction,
The beginning of an end.

Even the sound of my loved ones,
If they even exist...

Even their crying voices
Cannot reach me here.

I keep on saying "light",
Even though I feel
So dark inside.

Feverishly writing,
Thinking,
To stop them becoming actions.

I don't know why I'm like this.

They say that
A human being
Is both dark and light.

Why we always feel conflict.
I don't understand, though,
Because all I see is the dark.

Halfway through the book already,
Fallen deeper into the rabbit-hole.

All the beauty fades away,
An empty husk of what it once was.

I let the words swallow me,
Engulfing me into the darkest depths of despair.

No name, no date,
My life forever an unknown.

It's cold down here,
Dark and silent.

I froze to death,
As I saw your cold heart.

The night
Is cold
And long.

I cannot
Think.

I want to
Be loved.

But I
Will die
Here.

Cold
Alone
Forgotten

As it
Should be

The pain
Makes
My existence
Fade.

Scattered thoughts.

I love you.

So let's celebrate my achievements,
We'll surely be depressed.

I'm not like my friends,
I can't be as pretty and peppy as them.

I'm not like my mother;
She can make love last a lifetime.

I can't be my father,
Loyal and loving and providing.

I'm not who you thought I was,
Not in a million years.

I'm the one who's thoughts cut deep,
Even deeper than the knife I wield.

I seem to get lost in my head,
Anxiety and panic attacks every time I think.

I'm the one you should be afraid of,
Don't try to come close and comfort me.

My thoughts won't remain hidden,
My mask won't fit any more.

So if you come close,
You'll see me.

And you'll never be able to forget.

This festering wound,
Eating away my insides.
My time is wearing thin.

The harmony of pain,
Suffering and disease,
Creates such an eerie melody.

No need to eat,
No need to breathe.
I'll soon be dead, anyways.

Lost all strength,
I have no will to live.
Death seems to be my only escape.

I'm not okay.
Not even close.

I'm falling to pieces,
While you can't even see.

Or won't see, for that matter.

All my cracks,
Coating my skin,
Letting the blood flow.

I don't know where it all went wrong.

But now, I'm hiding
On the other side
Of my bedroom door.

And I won't let you in.

On the mend,
I am growing.
Healing, little by little.

Then - a sudden break.
Once again, I am covered in blood,
But this time it's not mine.

It's yours, my darling.

Oh, what have I done?

A long journey home,
Trapped in the backseat.
A padded room.

I open my eyes.
And for a moment,
Everything is in blue.

The world shakes,
Distorts. Reality is thrown
Into various shades.

And suddenly,
You're splashing your face.
Wondering if what you saw was truly real.

I try to escape this realm,
Throw my heart into another.
But I never see it again.

I am forever trapped in this mind.

Why am I doing this anymore?

In a time of change,
Of never-ending pain,
Why do I still call you?

Why do I let you listen
To stress work gives me,
To the worries I have about my future?

I don't think
I'd call it love.

But I think
It's more than a friendship.

I love you, I do...

But I know you don't. Not in that way.

Because you see fragments,
Small pieces of nothing.

And I can only see the world,
Destroyed with a single touch.

I'm sorry.

Tonight, my thoughts
Are so clouded
And stormy
That I can't see the lighthouse,
The way out of the storm.

You forgot,
Again.
I know.

I just wish-
Just once-
You wouldn't.

I no longer
Want to be left behind
To eat your dust.

It's not your fault,
I guess.
It's probably mine.

I build things up
In my head,
An unshakable vision.

I create what I want.
Not what
Everybody else sees.

Where did my father go?

Who was kind and compassionate,
Who made his child feel loved?

Who is this standing in front of me,
Berating me over the smallest of things?

Where did you go, dad?

Who can save me from my tears,
Now that you are gone?

Why are you like this,
Screaming at your child while she cries?

When did you fade away entirely?

And, why, please tell me why,
Do I wish you'd be gone for good?

Anything seems better than this,
Because I know I've lost you already.

The middle of the night.
I feel as though I am dead,
But the darkness is not.

It whispers the memories of you,
The slight shadows on the walls
A reminder of our former glory.

The inky sky reminding me
How it feels to be another star
In a collection of millions.

I almost want to apologise for my lack of writing.

I go for months, years.

I try to be healthy,
To change my poetry into something

"Productive."

I always come back.

Something about it,
Being honest with myself.

No, I'm not okay.

For that brief time,
Where I am creative,
Happy,

Allowed to be whoever I am.

Before I pretend that this moment
Never existed.

Before I pretend I'm okay again.

I hate living
In this endless,
Cyclical world.

It tires me...

The constant abuse
Of inspiration,
Loved ones...

It's all monotone.

Still, my breath hitches
In that split second
Before the metal hits my skin.

I cry out for help, no one's there.

I wish I could cry,
But It's all the same.
Always has been, to me.

My life lacks colour.

My mother, in the corner.
Crying.

No longer complaining,
But wondering why.

Even now,
I don't know who I am.
Who I want to be.

I am afraid to look at myself
In the mirror,
And find a monster staring back.

I always seem to find that shadow,
Even on the most calm,
Sunny days.

I end up crying alone,
In the dark,
Hoping for sleep to come.

Although it never does.

I want to be good enough
To not need to pretend
That I can find "the one".

Because they don't exist.
And I know that.
But I still cling to that hope.

One of these days,
I hope I can learn
To love myself.

For a while now,
I've been thinking
Of what is to come.

I haven't been scared.

I can now say that
I accept my death,
That I will die.

But is that a good thing?

I have sacrificed
In order to live,
In order to die.

Should I be afraid?

For a while now, I've known.
My body growing sicker
With each passing day.

My mind dying with it.

I have already faced
The problems of age,
Even when I already know

That they've just begun.

My final question;
When I take my last breath,
When I am thrown into the ground,

Will you still remember me?

Where wishes are made
To be more popular, more pretty,
All manner of desirable things.

A tradition
Created by adolescents,
In a need to fulfill their dreams.

Quick to believe open lies,
Always eager to believe
Your empty, fragile promises.

1:11, this vision fades,
A mere 2 hours
Is all it takes.

One begins to realize
The emptiness of dreams
In the presence of the nightmare.

The nightmare,
Which is always there,
Residing in the darkness at the back of the mind.

This was me, long ago.
Now I reside in a deeper, darker time,
In the world of 2:22.

I live in a world unlike any other,
Where ghouls and ghosts
Constantly live.

And traumatize these nights.

I pour my heart and soul out,
Into you

My one and only guiding light,
My hopes and dreams residing.

Here, I suppose,
I am no longer bound.

Or at least, it was a fantasy,
One which I'd hoped you'd fulfill.

I needed you, then.

I poured my heart and soul out,
Hoping you'd accept

All the little flaws I kept hidden,
The scars that would never heal.

But you weren't capable.

Who could love the parts of me
That I can't even begin to accept?

So, I suppose...

You were just another one
Of those countless knives

That cut me down to my core.

That killed the fragile, dying ember inside of me.

Take off your mask,
Piece by piece,
Until it all fades away.

Reveal your bleary eyes,
Crying in frustration,
From long, sleepless nights.

Show me your red lips,
That smile at the sun,
Which utter such sweet nothings.

Wear your scars,
From the dancing and mayhem,
Your sweet childhood friends.

Set your hair loose,
Your means for inspiration,
The beginning of so many poems.

And finally,
Show me your true self,
So you may become a reflection I recognize.

Heart racing,
Lungs burning,
Mind slipping...

With one move, I'll fall into this eternal abyss.

I can't be seen,
Won't be found.
Not that I really cared, anyways.

All we were doing was playing mind games.

And I eventually lost.

I chose life.

I could have gone,
Peacefully,
In my own time.

A choice.

Life or death.

To continue to suffer,
To fight.

To sleep in peace,
To end.

It was the hardest decision of my life,
But the most natural too.

Out of spite,
Out of fear,
Out of love.

Call it what you will.

I want to be real.

I want my words to feel real to someone.

I want to grasp at a little permanence,
In this small, unforgiving,
Impermanent little life.

I want my future self to be able to look back,
Intelligent and successful.

I want to be happy now, even.

If I can.

I wish I could go back in time,
When I didn't need all this.

I wish I live without my phone,
Addicted to the empty feeling,

Giving me love in the form of "likes"
Where my family couldn't.

I wish I could live without
All these things I never needed

But now so desperately
Desire.

I wish I didn't meet you,
Because I wouldn't be empty.

I wouldn't know what it's like to live
Without you, after losing you so many times.

I wish I didn't have to cry out,
Writing my heartbreak feverishly.

So mad, so tearfully mad,
Ripping my mind apart.

My heart torn into pieces,
Like the verses of our story.

It's all a vicious cycle with you,
This family never seems to be enough.

All the grief you left unsaid,
All the love for the stillborn child.

No amount of sorrow,
Of anger, hate, or resentment

Will bring your beloved rose back.

I blame myself,
Knowing I may have taken some part of it,

But never for this.

You need no help in tearing us apart,
She has already done this to you.

And you are blind to what's in front of you.

Anything is better than being alone.

Maybe
I could stop caring about others.

Because
I begin to hate myself.

To lose myself.

So very ******* poetic.

But with you, I want to die.

Without you, I already am.

What would you say
If you could see me now?

Losing my mind to a boy,
Who doesn't even exist?

Dead long ago
In that cold winter storm;

Blood on ice,
A horrible sight to behold.

My dear brother,
I once loved you.

Now I cry over you,
A faint echo of a memory.

It seems that, for the longest time,
I could never write.

My mind can be full at times,
Full of beautifully poetic words.

But nowadays, I can't think
In the form of verses and stanzas.

I have tried so hard to turn this
Mess of madness into some form of beauty,

That I began to lose track
Of when beauty faded to madness,

So much so
That it started to consume me,

Wearing away
At my very soul.

Someone once told me,
"We act for one of two reasons;

For fear of losing something,
Or for love of gaining."

With all the greed I saw in the world,
I found it impossible to argue back.

So now I sit here,
And I wonder

What am I doing here?
Why am I like this?

I find these answers impossible,
But I have some theories.

I am mostly a fragile being,
Terrified of life and its trials.

Every thought of mine a reflection of that,
Who could ever argue?

Sometimes I wish I could just disappear.

It seems I've been thinking that a lot more, nowadays.

It's feels like the darkness, whatever it is, has taken over,
And I can't even be bothered to breathe.

To fight through the pain anymore.

I don't know if I do have depression,
I've self-diagnosed far too many times.

I could be normal.

I hope so.

I want this to just be a phase,
Never anything more than a blip.

Who knows?

I have loved you.

I have died for you,
Time and time again.

So much death,
All to satisfy your appetite.

With every death I become weaker,
Each new life further tinged with regret.

I remember the last one,
When I was so much wiser than I am now.

Because, truly,
I'm just a child,

Who knows nothing of what's to come,
Of nothing that it will grow to be.

No idea of the demons,
No idea of you.

Every time I step away,
I start a new life, away from you.

As I grow older, I become younger,
More naive and closed to the world.

You never knew me at my best,
But you have seen me at my worst.

I disappointed everyone again,
So what's different this time around?

My little box filled to the brim,
My hidden secrets and emotions bubbling out.

What's different this time?
Why has the darkness continued to grow?

The thing is,
I'm falling to pieces.

And I know it, too.
But I can't stop it.

Nobody can.

So where will my words go this time?
Whose hearts will I destroy with my dark thoughts?

My friends, my family,
Everyone I love...

Gone in the blink of an eye,
Because I failed yet again.

I love how some people
Can articulate their thoughts so clearly.

They can say so little
And amount to so much.

I know I should stop
Comparing myself to them.

They have meaning.

My mind's a mess.

I thought about my greatest work,
My "magnum opus" of life.

I found that it was myself,
And the various masks I wore.

See, I am the mistress of disguise,
Always hidden; never seen.

I suppose the greatest thing
I have ever done...

Is perfect the art
Of wearing this smile.

I've been looking through my memories,
Trying to recover that tenderness
That was somehow stolen from me.

All my life I've been a saint,
You'll think I'm lying.
Of course I am.

In reality, I'm a demon.
No-one has ever been able to look at me
And tell me otherwise.

So where did that love go?
In a hundred years, even a thousand,
Would anything ever change?

So, I ask of you,
Of anyone willing to hear;
Should I keep on searching?

I suppose it turned out for the best.

After all that I've done,
It seems fitting that I'd wind up here.

It's a good thing I was never enough.

I failed you, my darling,
And I failed myself 100 times over.

I never made it, not by a mile.

I always wanted to do more with my life,
Beyond the average, what was expected.

But I even failed at that.

So now, I plan around failure,
My world never focusing on success.

I haven't learned anything, beyond that of lying.

I am so good at it, I can deceive my own heart,
Believing that my failure is okay.

Even though I know it's not.

Enter; the woman,
Her skin covered in words,
Searching for new language.

She seeks more,
To fill in the voids of her skin,
Left by so many forgotten lovers.

Abandoned by love,
She seeks refuge
In the distant memories.

She has long forgotten
Who she was,
And who she was planning to be.

She looks for new words
To fill the emptiness in her heart,
And the longing in her soul.

And now, her skin
Is another blank canvas
For others to paint their thoughts on.

Last night I dreamed of you,
Though by now, you're long gone.

I know we could never happen,
Never in a million years.

You loved another,
And I foolishly thought...

But for a moment,
I was with you in my dreams,

With your touch so tender
And your kiss so sweet.

It brought back the ghosts of my love,
My sad, pitiful, stupid love.

And, though in waking I'd forgotten,
For a moment you were mine.

She watches the world
Through an old camera lens,
Wishing you were here.

In my hands,
I hold a long chain of silver,
Folded over itself a million times.

It shines in the light,
Like the millions of stars
Shining in a clear night sky.

The chain is long and hardy,
Not once bending or breaking
As the other pieces move.

Only us three remain,
Each trying to guide one to the other,
Until, finally, it snaps.

So, I take another piece,
This time in gold,
And try again.

Humans and demons,
Fighting for life.

That is all we are.

No angels here,
No good act truly pure.

We are all evil, in our own way.

A refusal to trust, a refusal to love,
All our impurities shown at the end.

For death, yes, she is the only pure one here.

Cleaning up humanity's messes,
Ending grieving souls' suffering.

The last hope for the cruel people that we are.

Perhaps she is not innocent, nor is she fair,
But who, if anyone, could do better?

Even now, one needs to go through hell
For even the slightest social interaction.

Guess that's why it's called "hello".

But it's just some spell,
I'm sure of it.

It's not like I face this every day.

No, indeed,
I am DEFINITELY

Not falling to pieces as we speak.

"I'm fine."

Because, seeing your face...
I remember all the god times,

Not wonder what I did wrong,
What we did wrong.

I swear to you,
I HONESTLY couldn't care less.

You don't love Me,
You never did.

"I don't love you," either.

Why should I?

Why should I cry over You,
Every Night and Every Day?

Why can't I just learn to be...

Recently, I've had more panic attacks.
Because, suddenly, everything matters.

Now more than ever.

And I can't amount to anything.

They say that honesty is the best policy, but
Is it really?

When the truth could hurt the ones you love most?

And lies are no better,
Covering up the truth
Just to save others.

It eats away at you.

And it makes me wonder,
Is there enough space

Between heaven
And hell

For people like us?

Because life has never been
About black or white.

Or grey.

Or pink
Or blue
Or red
Or green
Or yellow.

Although black has a tendency
To show up more amongst the crowd.

Life has never been about anything.

Life is nothing at all.

And it makes me wonder...

I met a raven today,
In brief passing
Of artistic elements.

He saw the chaos in my life,
And I saw the chaos in his.

This moment
Made beautiful by time,
In the museums of the moon.

Why do I want you
To see these cuts on my wrists,

Even though you pushed me to this point?

Why do I want you
To know what I've done,

Even though you never understand it?

Why do I want you
To explain why you hate me,

Even though you never change?

Because, actually,
I want hide away from you.

I never want to see your face,
Not after how you broke my family.

Not after you killed all the love,
And just let the word "family" fade away.

After many years of thought,
I reached a conclusion.

My life has no meaning.

I have no reason for my existence,
No idea what to do with it.

But at least I'm not lying to myself.

The world full of distractions,
Hiding the fact that death inches ever closer

With every move we make.

Some might find meaning in helping others,
But you can help others if you can't help yourself.

Maybe I should die.

That's the point of it all, isn't it?
To suffer?

Everything dies out, eventually.

Even the universe,
The never-ending flow of time.

The only reason to live is to suffer.

And everything in between that
Is boring.

If you saw all the blank pages
I tried to write,

The empty drafts
Without words,

You'd realize I'm not perfect?

So why must you insist that I am?

Why am I held to such a high expectation,
Where anything less than perfection is wrong?

Where I'm wrong?

And, more importantly,
Could I ever be enough for you?

Could I ever be something more,
Anything more, than a "failure" ?