I was lost.
Every night I’d stand by my window in hopes that someone would help me.
The stars shone as bright as they could. They were in peace.
Something I wasn’t.
That was until I saw him.
That sorrow I had buried myself in had managed to get away.
And that smile that hasn’t seen the daylight in years managed to form.
But he was lost too.
And the same smile I had on my face reflected on his.
He was my lost boy.

I was happy with the man I wanted to have a future with.
I was happy with the friends who told me to stay away from you.
I was happy with the family that told me you were a bad influence.
But then you showed up again.
And my heart raced like it did when we were together.
I started to have second thoughts about the man I wanted to have a future with.
I wanted to prove the friends who told me to stay away from you wrong.
But I couldn’t go back those times.
All this time I thought I was missing you but I was wrong. I didn’t miss you. I missed what we had and what we had are now memories who have burned themselves deep in my mind who are constantly on repeat and thats whats making me miss you.

Growing up we’d see those high school movies with that one kid who commits suicide.
And we’d say “That would never be me.” Or “This can’t be serious.”
But I had found myself in that position. And god it’s the worst ******* thing ever.
I had found myself alone like that kid in the movie.
I had found myself depressed like that kid in the movie.
I had found myself skipping breakfast and lunch because I had no one to sit with.
Because sadly I don’t have the ***** to get up and make friends.
And apparently that’s my fault. And I apologize.
I’m sorry my brain has the power to bring myself esteem down.
I’m sorry I stutter and shake because my anxiety couldn’t recognize a familiar face.
And I might be like the kid in the movie but I will not end up like the kid in the movie.
But in a way I did end up like him. Because those words and those feelings I felt.
Killed me. Not in a way where it had physically put me six feet underground.
But in a way where those words and feelings killed me that my mind just stood blank.
And my emotions had been long gone I don’t recall the last time I even smiled.
Thinking about it I did end up like the kid in the movie.

She always stood by the sea at night. She always loved the noise it made, and her memories would crash with one another just like the waves did. Her pale skin remained the same after my Annabel died. She was just a body without a soul, my love, she was already dead before she died. her long pitch black hair would flow with the wind. I would watch my love from the balcony, and she would be happy. Something she never was when she was home. My Annabel was in love. but not with me, but with the sea. Because it gave her something I couldn't possibly give to her and that was comfort. Her favorite place was the cliff, where she would sit with her feet hanging.But on that particular night, her feet weren't the only thing that would fall from the cliff. My Annabel has died...

Its painful huh? The pain you felt after you got cheated on. The pain you felt after you got lied to. But what hurt more, was the fact that you decided to go back after what he did. What hurt more was the fact that those words replayed in your mind and each time over and over again it became more painful and it didn’t change the way it made you feel. But you still went back. Because even after he warned you not to fall in love with him, you still did. Because even though he cheated on you and did the same thing to girls that he did to you, he still “Knew how to treat you”. And it sad cause at the end of the day you still went back and the same result would be expected. But you never got used to the feeling. Cause you actually felt the heartbreak. And you felt the way your heart broke into a million pieces. You only wanted to see the good in him but you didn’t. You couldn't bring out the good in him either. But everyone around you warned you about him and you only kept poisoning yourself by going back. He was the venom to your veins that even though it was killing you, you didn’t do anything to **** it out. You let it **** you by staying thinking it was love. But it had felt as if you hated yourself more than you loved yourself.

Doll, remember when you were ever so innocent?
         Do you remember when you used to take care of your body?
         Do you you remember yourself before being broken?
Darling, remember when you never let a boy near you?
All I can feel for you is sorrow and pain.
Because you love being tied to the bed. And you love the feeling of having two strong hands wrapped around your neck. And you love the feeling of getting beaten and getting smacked until you have bruises.
I agree, your body is a canvas. A canvas that you let everyone, even the pastor from Sunday mass paint on. I would say you do this for...love. But the bills cant pay themselves and that drug you keep injecting yourself with isn't cheap. My baby, remember when you ever so innocent?

Winter had come, her least favorite season.
It looked like a gray and white movie film,
The sky was cloudy and the snow was white.
It all reflected the way she felt inside.
She was cold as the winter snow,
Sadly thats all she ever showed.

Tell me, love, was she good in bed?
When you would tell her you loved her did you mean it?
Cause now I'm standing here looking stupid believing you loved me.
Did you **** her for hours endlessly in hopes you’d forget about all your other mistakes?
Tell me, love,
Did you think of me when she would scratch your back and bite your neck in hopes I wouldn’t notice?
Tell me, love, did you pick up  the mess after you were done or did you wait for your girlfriend to wash the sheets because “Our puppy peed on the bed cause he isn't trained”?
Was she the one begging for more or were you the one asking her to stay?
And clearly, it wasn’t a one time mistake like you said when I walked into the room while you were on top of her.
I would have hoped you would change which is why I stayed in the first place. But **** I should have listened to my brother when he said all you cared about was ***.

The pen in my hand, the paper remains unwritten.
The pen starts moving writing down the secrets it’s been hidden.
The writer remains quiet but the paper shows how much she’s screaming.
Wrote down how much she misses dreaming.
With the cold cup of coffee, to keep her awake.
Her enemies wouldn’t ever to feel this pain.

How did that ugly mind create those beautiful words?