Time is no longer frozen, in fact now it goes by too fast.
How terribly cruel and ironic is it,
That life goes by quicker when you want it to last.

The scars have faded, though they're still forged in my skin.
Now soft kisses are planted like roses,
Upon those wounds inflicted by sin.

My crutch is far more sturdy, my hand is held real tight.
And he knows to walk with me slowly,
For I'm still healing from the long fight.

I wake to a phrase I thought I'd never hear.
A string of words constructed sincerely,
With a breath of warmth when heard by the ear.

The darkness is still here, and lingers far behind me,
But his light shines much brighter,
As it illuminates the world around me.

So I look into my broken past, and design a carefully written letter,
For those needing a will to live,
"Hang on, I promise it will all get much better".

How sweet is the sound of silence?
Enchanting it is at first,
But granted some time for further inspection
One can encounter the worst

What happens when your trapped in the dark
With no hope to find your way out?
My friend, this is where you'll quickly discover
What silence is truly about

For your thoughts are very poisonous
And can tear you apart inside
With whispers of death stabbing your ears
There's no where left for you to hide

Where silence is no longer silence
But the screams of a dying soul
Where moments are spent in agony
As you drown in it's gaping black hole

Time is never-ending
And "lonely" is newly defined
Where you cry for help as people pass by
And willingly leave you behind

You struggle to maintain your sanity
As the darkness quickly seeps in
And your mind is fighting to stay alive
As it's filled with every last sin

Where the fear of being alone
Is far greater than any other fear
For the demonizing sound of silence
Is the worst you will ever hear

If you were to read the desperate thoughts, that circle and spin around in my head
Would you consider me as already dead?
Would you burst into tears as you quietly hear
The screams of a heart that is drowning in fear?

Fear of the darkness, fear of being alone,
You would step back in horror at the images shown
Images of young girl who cuts her own skin
With her ribs sticking out as she wants to be thin

You would feel your stomach churn, with your heart left in sorrow
Knowing that broken young girl has plans to **** herself tomorrow
You would grasp at your chest for the pain in your heart
Would be so overwhelming it would tear you apart

But you would have never known of the things that she feels
Every day she is struggling and skips all her meals
She looks at her scars and wants to make more
For she feels some comfort when there's blood on the floor

You would ache at the fact that you ignored all the signs
Of her dying soul, because inside all your minds,
"It's not all that awful, because everyone gets sad"
But little did you know of all the pains that she had

She hides all her emotions, and puts on a smile
But those lovely painted masks only last for awhile
For when she returns to her bedroom at the end of the day
She lies bleeding on the floor, slowly withering away

Once you have read her mind, and have seen her true face
Would you still think she'd make it, or is that not the case?
Would you see her scars and her skin that's too fair?
Or must she truly be dead for anyone else to care?

It burns. So deathly excruciating.

It's like a never-ending, heart wrenching feeling, that separates all other emotions, all other pains, and all other scars apart.

That feeling of regret and fallen memories, colliding with each other and dragging you down so low that Hell appears to be Heaven.

Why? Why after so many years?

After so many others have managed to steal my heart, even if it was just for a moment.

Why? Even though I know those days are over, that they could never begin again, that there will always be a broken link and I will always shatter, fall, and crumble once more.

Why are these emotions still here? Why do they linger like a black cloud, suffocating me and chaining me down like a wild animal?

I know that you are only a memory, so then why are you still here?

Why do I think about you, dream about you?

Why even though I know all of your flaws and your undeniably inexcusable actions do I grip at my heart and say "I still love you"?

Even though time after time I have told myself the very opposite.

Time and time again I have banished you from my life and yet hoped there was still a chapter left of this dark story.

Why after so many countless times where I have been defeated by you, where I have fallen once more for the ****** games you play,
twisting your black fingers around my spine and seeing how far you can go until it breaks?

Why do my forsaken eyes mistake you as an angel, when you are the devil himself?

Must I continue to have hope, wishing that I could try again, even though I know you're going to once more watch as I lose all sight of the truth?

Sinister and vile as you are, relish in my delusional state, knowing you have me in your claws which scrape at my back and leave scars that not even God could heal.

Do you even know how disgusting, how sickening and maddening it feels to know that you can't even see the pain you have inflicted on me? Sure you can see the bandages, but are you really that blind to the truth of their nature?

How deep these scars truly run? How badly and desperately I screamed and begged for help inside as you dug your claws into my flesh and carved them out yourself?

Can you not see the depression, the hopeless battered soul seeping through my eyes?

I pretend I am strong. I live every day breaking at the cracks and somehow manage not to collapse into a pile of broken pieces.

Tears are dried out and the ache of a heart that has been stomped on so severely that it bleeds gray is only a small burden compared to all of the rest.

I walk on a path where there is a light just in reach, but the path vanishes once you have come close enough to that hopeful light that you can brush it with the tips of your fingers.

Do you have any idea what it feels like to look in the mirror and have to remind yourself every single day that you were never good enough?

That you are a wasted canvas, painted beautifully at first but then crumpled and thrown out because you never had a chance at being satisfactory.

You will never understand that my own emotions are poisoning me.

You have grabbed at my throat and shaken me so violently that I am unable to move, paralyzed in shame. Paralyzed in sorrow.

And yet, as I look into your eyes, I am mesmerized by your face, I fall into a trace, trapped in your spell. Trapped in this deadly cycle.

You have dragged me down into this pitiful thing. This choking, lifeless relationship where I struggle to stay alive while you climb higher on your pedestal.

And despite my previous errors, I willingly fall into your hands. Blinded by the false light you shine above your head.