You asked me **one time,
why I liked the stars so much,
and I didn't really have an answer for you.
But now I do.
I like the stars because,
we're really seeing the past,
and it seems to me that I liked my past
more than I'm going to like my future.

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9 months, 5 days, 14 hours and 23 minutes.
What did you really expect would happen in that time?
You had that much time to explain to me,
why you did the things that you did,
and why you left me stranded so suddenly,
with no explanation, and me thinking it was my fault.

So why today?

Why choose today,
to look me in the eyes and say
"Hello."

That one simple word,
struck me down like a lightning bolt,
and tossed me aside like I was nothing but ash.

I'm so confused.
But I'm sure that's what you're trying to do.

You'll follow me around today,
and every single word you say,
will be a lie.

You had 9 months, 5 days, 14 hours and 23 minutes,
to say what was on your mind.
To put my mind at rest.

But you didn't.

You sat around and watched me transform,
into this horrible f*cking shell of my former self.
And it's all thanks to you,
and your enjoyment in watching me suffer.

You had 9 months, 5 days, 14 hours and 23 minutes.

And I won't be wasting one more second with trusting you ever again.

It feels like I have the world on my shoulders,
and the world is too heavy for one person to carry.
I'm just dragging along my wretched frame,
as it sinks further into the ground.

I contemplate how I can fix things.
But I underestimate the power of my own mind,
and slowly I lose myself again,
to the inviting darkness that always seems to loom,
on the edges of my vision.

I don't know when it started,
how I got here,
or when it suddenly got so bad;
that I couldn't stand to be alone anymore.

But the one thing I do know,
is that the person I see in the mirror,
is just another conjured image
of someone who's trying to break me down.

A blood donor clinic.

The smell of all the blood in the air makes me sick.
It brings me back to the time,
where blood flowed freely down my arms;
when blood stained the wristbands that I wore,
to try to hide my pain from the rest of the world,
because I told myself I would never be as stupid as any of them.

But I was.

The smell makes me so dizzy,
the floor comes up to swallow me whole,
but I have the common sense to run.

Far away.

I run to the bathroom,
and all I can feel is the shuddering of my body
as I'm huddled in a corner;
being bombarded by images of a darker time;
images of my Crimson Decision.

I will never forget that day.
I thought I was going to give up on everything,
because everything had given up on me.
I'm glad it didn't turn out that way,
I'm glad I had the common sense to stop.

There's no way I'm letting the world have the satisfaction of seeing me like this.

But every once in a while,
I fall back into my crimson state;
where my body shudders and shakes,
and my mind falls inwards,
dragging my feelings to one central point,
where hell is begging for my soul.

A blood donor clinic.

The smell of all the blood in the air makes me sick.
I could bleed you a pint faster than that puny needle could get,
but I have the common sense,
to re-think my Crimson Decision.

You know, I find it funny;
how you've twisted my words,
and how you've recreated our memories,
to make it look like I'm the bad guy.

Well I'll tell you now,
I won't stand for that.
But here's what I will stand for.

I'm gonna stand up for my feelings,
because I'm sick of you manipulating them.
I'm gonna stand up for my body,
because I'm sick of the pain you cause me.
I'm gonna stand up for my mind,
because I'm sick of the malevolent beatings it has to take,
And I'm gonna stand up for myself as a whole for once,
because I'm sick of letting you tear me down.

You know who I was;
and who I am hates who I've been.
So now, it's time to show you who I really am.

It's funny; the things I'll do to escape you.

I feel the familiar numbness,
as the caffeine works it's way through my system.

The heightened senses,
the small, flashing lights, haunting the corners of my vision,
the nausea as the room starts to spin,
but I like it...

Because, every time I feel this upheaval,
I know that soon enough, my body won't be able to process the feelings;
I know my mind won't react to the seeds you planted there.

You try as hard as you can to make them grow,
you're trying to tear me apart from the inside out,
and once upon a time,
it worked.

But once I feel the shock of my system shutting down,
there's no more room for you to invade.

I know what I do is dangerous.
But when you find something that works,
anything* is a good enough escape.
Even if it means that eventually,
something goes horribly wrong...

Am I doing something wrong?
Because I'm really dying to get away from you,
and so far,

A bad headache and a fast heart beat aren't going to be enough to convince me to stop.