I am covered, hidden and locked away.
Exposed but not exposed.
Secretive, but open and saying too much.
Alone, misery seems to love my company.
Projecting hatred on those I stay distant from.
Not trusting, not needing to, because the motives and character screams louder than the physical disposition of who they seem to display.
I see the cracks beneath, yet, I have no remorse.
I have become so angry and miserable, that those I hate beckon to cause destructive anxiety when I hear them speak because they all seem to talk about me, and only me.
Like I am the main topic of the town.
These jealous petty cowards, soulless peasants, are nothing to me.
Yet their voices, their presence, angers the pits of my hell.
I am a dark presence, unknown.
A mysterious force, an energy I cannot recall.
She takes over me.
She now has full control.
The girl I once hated in the mirror, is now me.
She is my own reflection of darkness.
Lost and lonely...
My own reign of the throne I harness

You got a fire inside, but your hearts so cold.
I tried to wash you away, but you just won't leave.
I know you're gonna keep on haunting...
Until I leave, until you can't have me.
Until I become spineless, and immoral, like you.
Maybe I subconsciously called upon you.
Maybe my desperate cries for help brought upon you.
Something I can't seem to let go of.
What is my emptiness without you.
What am I without you?
What am I ever to become!!!??
****** eating in the rummaging chaos of this reckless mind.
Do not come near...
Or maybe I do...
But my darkness, my loneliness, it called you.
I do not know what you are, and how you are helping me in any way.
But I feel you, and feel your presence.
Your dark truth eating away at my lies.
No one else can hear me, everyone else fears me.
Maybe I am possessed by you.
Maybe I am nothing without your deadly being.
Maybe I am you, and you are me.
You followed me for a reason.
I begging you, to keep haunting.
They cried out, "please stop, you're scaring me''
I can't help this toxic energy.
**** right, you should be scared...
Who is in control?

Senses filling up inside of me.
Sensations of bruised mortality.
Jittery explosions.
***** thoughts eating at my brain.
Do I say what is not to be explained.
A shadow overcast, I dare not to speak.
As I see your eyes, your stare, stalking me.
Watching my every motive.
My mind is dared not to be reached.
Darkness, and light, endowered as I reach beyond what I think I could explore, but cannot.
Can I be touched and felt, heard.
For once.
This brick wall, made of stainless steel and cold iron...
But a bleeding heart ripped apart perceiving a dark shadow of a lonely part.
A part of the within, the sorrow.
As she cries, whimpers, drowning in deprecation.
Wounded, still standing with cracks and scars.
Covered in red, of strength and courage.
Awaiting another day in her battlefield of conviction, disruption, and voiceless whispers.
Touch my thighs, lurk within.
Conflicted emotions and wars fighting to begin.
Where is the end?
Where is the peace?
Where is the silk curtain of velour chairs and a room of candle lights and dim...
Where is the light?
I have seen to be astounded.
Pounding every ****** day in the doors in my unrested mind.
The warrior, I lose, then I win.
Yet, I am not to be seen.
Hated for all that I am.
Not to expose what I am fighting for.
My secrets; dark, deadly, and too terrifying to even ****** swim.
Yet, they know me, or they think they do.
They know of what I am showing, not of why I am dying.
Bleeding nostrils, the clocks strikes it's time.
May I only cry to myself.
Not be seen.
Starving, she's unhinged.

I stand as alone, as eternal to what life seems to be.
To be it not.
For I am no longer me

Everything I have seen, touched, felt, faced, beckoned to know, and lived...
Is nothing.
The meaningless stance in the fact that my life has no meaning based on constant mental boredom stands as real as the fact that my body exists here as a biological structure.
I see nothing, I feel nothing.
I see pointless obscurities.
I no longer have the need, the want, the desire.
If everything I know is not known...
What can my love be?
I am nothing to this empty distraction called life.
Merely a walking paradox of delusional contradictions.
I stand as alone as my thoughts project.
I feel nothing but music.
THE ONLY THING KEEPING ME ALIVE.
The only thing that gives me feeling.
The only thing that makes me feel.
Intertwined into a lost trap.
I am stuck in this web.
My thoughts, my mind, that nobody can satisfy.
I am empty, numb, isolated.
Drifting off in knowledge only I understand.
All these people are boring.
The sites I see are boring.
The world, the sky.
Nothing excites me.
Once upon a time, I used to be on fire.
Yet, the flame turned to ash and there is nobody, not even me, to bring the spark back.
Dead, lifeless.
Everything around me dies.
I am nothing to this shallow world.
I am not them, neither they are me.
I am just an energy with an increasing amount of questions and knowledge, and nothing to get more from.
I am lost, as my thoughts, they have beckoned me.
I know not less...
Isolated and distant as can be.
Detached and hopeless in this dark cave.
Trapped in my flexed web of chaotic thoughts.

The pain lingers, the heart throbs.
The boredom strikes chaos, like a pulsating sob.
I cannot seem to escape it, to make it better.
Its haunting presence makes for sleepless dreams.
Some nightmares, some screams.
Have to stay fully protected.
Eyes on high alert, I cannot seem to withdraw.
Trapped in hopeless projections.
Which am I going to display.
Useless, emotional, discontent.
Not knowing the way out.
Trapped in my mind of contradicted addictions and hidden counteractions of emotionless emotions.
Leave, stay away.
Nobody should ever be trusted.
Eyes on alert.
Intuitions at its highest.
I feel you before you feel you.
I see your motives before you can even do them.
Why even try?
*******.
Spineless cowards.
Keep your shallowness to yourself.
Don't project your narrow minded boxed perspectives onto me.
Silent bitter words.
Saying too much, to saying nothing at all.
Keeping thoughts to myself.
Fear me.
Keep your distance.

I don't want to feel it anymore.
I don't want to have it anymore.
I don't want to party anymore.
What happens after the party?
They disappear.
You never see them again.
Use them for a good time, then cut your ties.
The life of the party, drowning in depression.
Some ***** and dance to take the pain away.
Breathing heavy, waiting for the next sip.
The next adventure; Cut
Then I do it all over again.
A routine that I am too used to.
Living for the night time.
The lights, the camera, the action, the vibe.
Enticing to my every being, my enchantress moving like a snake, when the beat hits tempo... I can't stop.
Strikes like a lightning bolt, like a shock through the system.
I become a different person altogether, It's perpetual, formidable, distractingly destructive.
Conceptual and disruptive.
She is me and I am her.
My version of me when I stare into the mirror.
My only best friend, and worst enemy.
When I am her, nothing can stop me.
Push it, sometimes the mirror cracks, but she always comes back.
As long as it's perpetual perspective and paradox keeps haunting, nothing else matters.