I was beautiful,
I hope to never be beautiful again.
I grow more authentically repulsive,
And alive
And real
And free
And happy.
I will never need beauty again.

They say god is everywhere, right?
That its helpful, that it loves us?

Where was god when I almost died?
In his hands, My neck, his knife?
Where was god the second time?
In his smile, at the end of My life?

Where, when I was abused?
In their voices, their hands, My fear?
Where is god now its over?
In My flashbacks, shaking, in tears?

Where was god when I was bullied?
In the school, in the kids, in the words?
Where was god through all those years?
Lonely, cornered, unheard.

Where is god now? Im still suffering
In My struggles, in My life, in My work?
They say god is everywhere, right?
it's never helped Me, that's for sure.

Looking at the window
You come into my room
Cuddling with you
In the dark
As trust begins to bloom

Knocking at my window
I see you crouching there
It's late at night
You slide inside
And gently stroke my hair

Tapping at my window
A pillow in your hand
Soon stained dark red
And damp with tears
You're best in all the land

Food left at my window
You try to apologise
I eat it up
And it's enough
To ignore all our goodbyes

Banging at my window
You think we still belong
You're furious that
I start to know
Something's clearly wrong

Rocks thrown at my window
And once again I'm scared
Your fingers wrap
Around my throat
But I no longer care

Police are near my window
Because I finally gave up hope
No more trying for
A guy who keeps me
Treading slowly on tightrope

Nobody's at the window
But still I feel your eyes
Such a shame
That none of us
Predicted our demise.

Another me is holding his hand
The park we shared is yours now
The sweets and treats and pleasant things
Disaster, yet you don't see how
Let's hope you survive him

Clouds roll in and rain pours down
And you'll forgive the storm
You'll attack the weatherman
When the reports begin to warn
Lets hope you survive him

Another me inspects the mirror
Full of fear, self-hatred and doubt
Even when the door is wide open
You're too guilt-ridden to get out
Let's hope you survive him

By now, your bedroom is your tomb
His knife has twisted deep
It's over now, his boredom slays
And your soul he claims to keep

And now I hope you're resting sweet
In a grave that's soft and kind
For the memory is no mercy
To a stubborn, struggling mind.

Do you still plot your moves?
Meticulously planning your next attack,
Obsessing over the board,
Chasing checkmate after checkmate,
Even though the game is over.

Or is it? Do I understand you now?
Pawns surround a trembling king,
Bringing back information,
About "innocent" steps,
And knights abducted.
The game continues, making mockery
And playing hangman with your ill intent.

Everyone has an urge
They usually don't admit
Some are worse than others
Some play around with it

The difference between us monsters
Is lack of self control
You gave in to your urge
And now I have no soul

I don't mind that you thought he was kind.
I'm learning his techniques, and they upset my insides.
I'm learning the ways to get under your skin.
I can open you up, and slither right in.

Emotion hits, and it's clear you aren't dead.
You never were, you were simply buried alive.
You've been dug up now.
You can feel now,
And you kinda wish you couldn't.

There are words I hear everyone say
"This isn't how children should play"
But am I a child
Once I've been defiled?
Everything is rotting away

When you're in the moment, you feel so numb
And when you feel nothing, you think you're strong.
When you escape from that moment,you come undone,
And then you will find you've been suffering all along.

Player one, player two.
Who will you choose?
You've been switching the controllers,
And leaving us confused.
I load up the game
To find someone else's save.
Are you an NPC or boss monster?
You're so much more depraved

Player one, player two.
Who did you choose?
I don't see any winner.
In the end, both players lose.

I know I was just a game
Player 2 felt just the same
Scared of my window
And my Windows
Worried by empty streets
And data sheets
Are my files compromised?
Or is it just my brain,
CPU rotting again.

All your crime piles up with time
But the clocks don't chime for a speaking mime
There's nothing more that I can do
A victim's story can never be true
When the guiltiest confession in all the world
Is never spoken, not a single word