I look into the mirror and ask
"Am I truly happy?"
and my empty reflection replies
" no, perhaps you never were"

feet move and in a moment she's gone
my breath leaves me and I am nauseous,
I know there is company more desirable than mine
but still this loneliness breaks my senses
and then when you return you have the audacity to ask me why I seem upset

perhaps its childish for me to be mad
but I never did like the idea of growing up

Fantasies of death were my introduction,
To the lust for self destruction
In the darkness I am lost in      
I will hold my saviour hostage

I am empty
I find as time goes on
it is as if my emotions were tied to me by a thread that has been cut and now I hold these feelings in my hand so familiar and yet foreign at the same time,
I know I should feel but I cannot
and I have found there is nothing more terrifying

to you I am but a memory,
waiting to be forgotten

I wish to sleep
and cease to breathe,
and then maybe I'll be free

I know that you will leave
all in due time
but perhaps for now
we can pretend we're alright