Her soul,
captivated by darkness.
It lies at the end of a dark road,
leading to nothing.
Her mind is trapped in a steel cage with no lock.
She's helpless.
Her screams are echoes
flowing with the wind.
She is unheard.
Her body is paralyzed
with the feeling of heavy chains around her limbs.
She is trapped,
consumed by a lingering darkness.

Dark thoughts consume her once again.
she feels nothing but loneliness.
Words never joyfully danced past her lips as they used too.
Her innocence, swiped from her grasp long ago.
Her childhood, ruined by traumatic events.
Her family, treats her worthless, as she is the invisible middle child.
Without a genuine soul n sight,
dark thoughts consumed her once again.
Imagery emerged in her mind from the back of her head,
where she thought the godforsaken events were staying for good.
The original slowly faded,
yearning for her help to overcome this darkness.

Everyone has a perfect place.
A perfect place
where their thoughts roam freely.
A place where their body unwinds like a Spring breeze.
A perfect place,
where they omit to everything that needs their focus.
A place where
they are completely happy for that one moment.
Her place is in the clouds,
mind exploring the universe.
She is one with herself here,
and no one can ruin her happiness.
This is where she found her way with words.
This is where she writes.
In her perfect place,
high in the clouds and deep in the universe of her thoughts.

Alone.
She's  alone as her mind races on a never ending track.
Voices of all shapes & sizes fill her head, as the tinny tiny original at the back of her mind screams for peace & tranquility.
She is alone.
Alone in her room as the blood drips from her wrist.
"You can talk to me about anything" they say.
But what can a "talk" solve for a human in this state of mind?
Depressed.
Things in the dark don't always come to light, in fact some things are better left in the dark.
The imagery in her head cannot be spoken in words, it is something that has to be seen to even slightly understand.
Even then,we start to believe our eyes are deceiving us.
Quiet.
Certain things are better left unsaid, words can lead to chaos.
Quiet.
Is what she remains when they question her.
Answering questions from those "above her" can only lead her to more sorrow.
So
She
Is
Alone.

Her heart can hold a lifetime of love that runs skin deep.
It aches with strong cravings for affection.
There's a feeling she gets,
every time she feels like someone is trying to deceive her.
It consumes her entire body.
Betryal is the feeling she thinks this is.
Blood boils, adrenaline rushes,  
and heart beats faster than the speed of light.
She can
****** someone in a split second with this excruciating feeling.
She can rid her life of sorrows but
also bring nothing but woe into it with this tenacious vehemence.

She sits in her bedroom with nothing but her thoughts.
Her mind is made up about her time here on Earth.
Nothing can fill the empty void where what used to be her heart.
As time pasts,she began to believe that
the heart isn't even where the emotions are stored.
Maybe just us as humans,
we've convinced ourselves that everything revolves around them.
We have.
When the cold metal touches her neck
she doesn't think twice.
No more living in sorrow upon this Earth.
Everything that lives, dies.

Lust.
It has consumed her body,
She feels it in her second heartbeat.
This arousing sensation sends volts of electricity up her spine.
She can feel that Her secret was flowing with hot sensations.
When they lock eyes,
this tells them that this is what they want.
They are careless of opinion or consequences.
She has longed to drown in Her secret for as long as She knows.
They enjoy the acquaintance of each others oceans.
Secrets sealed with each others lips.

The pain in my chest,
It hurts like the best,
I’m just so used to it.
Pins and needles in my toes,
Skin halfway froze,
But this is a pain I’m just so use too.
The tears in my eyes,
Sharp pain between my thighs,
Is a pain I’m just so use too.
But I shouldn’t,
When they asked me to talk
I just couldn’t,
And wouldn’t bear the pain of feeling ashamed,
Of my own doubts, losses, and thoughts.
Feel like I’m trapped,
But not in a box.
More like a coffin,
I constantly revisit so often.
Because it’s a pain I’m just so use too.