Tonight I am a mass of self-destruction
Tearing, ripping, clawing my way through raw emotions
As if they were confetti paper
But this birthday party is of self-loathing and carnage
The cake made of lies and secrets and violent regret
The balloons pop with the sound of cannons
Shattering the red and silver streaked sky,
The confetti-ed emotions fall from above in a mob of raging color
Craving to bury me beneath them.

It wrenches me apart from the inside out,
Creating cracks in my porcelain body where flaming blood protrudes,
My head a mountainous fiery smog of all too much
A volcano of beautifully deadly words that threaten to destroy me
Imminent doom from this unbreakable, immortal, immoral confetti

Tonight I am a mass of self-destruction
and this time, I refuse to take you down with me.

I, the queen,
Sit atop this throne of lies
This bed of secrets
This house of insecurity.
I alone rules these thing,
Long forgotten or freshly made,
Its all black, white, and red here
Black- darker than the light ******* black holes
White- lighter than the ashes of an exploded volcano
Red- brighter than the blood that stains this dress.

I, the queen,
Rule this land of hate,
Of sin,
Of breathlessness.
With an iron fist I govern all within my realm
To make up for these broken, rusted wings,
Which I have so graciously ripped off my back.
Fallen I am no more,
After all,
It is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven.

*** for tat he said
And so we cut our scars, and our veiled secrets bled
Unto each other, ‘til we were both dead.

I always called him innocent to ways I was not
But then I realized as I watched his soul get shot
That we were both seasoned in sadness in ways we ought to have naught.

The two wept for who they never knew,
But they tried in vain to push through
Because they wanted oh-so-desperately to start anew

So I cry for the boy with the lost twin
And him for the girl with the mother who has been
But two hearts now conjoined, and together they begin again

Everything is wrong and i dont know how to fix it.
Monday rolls through my head like one of those memories
that you think could be a dream, but you aren't sure.
Its like this weird numbness, where i'll get flashes of happy
but the sad still dominates.

He was an alchemist,
Turning my lead tears to gold,
Because to him I was beautiful
To him I was worth more.

He was a metalsmith,
Fixing my broken copper wings
With tarnished feathers
Because to him, I could still fly.

He was a clockmaker
Resetting my fragmented cogs and beating pendulum
Spending hours and hours
Because to him I was fixable.  

But I am a just broken clockwork angel
With lead tears, broken wings, and severed insides
Rusted away by time and life
And no amount of mending can save me

if yesterday was a dream
then today was a nightmare
reality shattering the fantasy world
we were in

if i am water
then you are fire
lighting a match in my soul
that my cool ways cant dim

if yesterday i was awake
then today i am asleep
without your fire to keep me moving
i will not wake up

There are so many things in this world to cry about
And I cry because I miss someone who is still here.