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  Feb 2016 A Dash of Red
ks
feed me poison,
watch me die,
savour while I struggle.

stab me with knives,
hear me cry,
make my screams your favourite song.

cut me up,
bleed me dry,
swim in my tears.

let me go through hell,
in beds of fire, lie
make castles of my ashes.

leave me behind,
and say goodbye,
carry with you a piece of me.

but please.. don't say you love me
only to lie.
A Dash of Red Feb 2016
Why is it so easy to complain,
To express my sorrow in a story,
Make my pain something beautiful,

But...

When I'm happy,
Which is a rare delight,
I can't find the words,
My mind goes blank,
And once that feeling goes away...
It's all forgotten

Why do I bear my sadness like armour,
Why can't I hold onto happiness,
And keep it from blowing away,
Like glittering ashes in the wind.
I feel happy, I think.
But the only way I can describe it is this peaceful emptiness.
A Dash of Red Jan 2016
I’m disgusting.
I’m afraid of everything.
I’m scared of the dark,
Of my dad,
Of myself.
I’m afraid of living,
But I’m slightly more afraid of dying.

I’ve held that knife,
Felt its cold, sharp edge,
Pressed against my throat
My wrist.
I’ve stared at those pills,
Hours on end,
I’ve even dreamt about them.
I’ve stood atop that building,
Leaning over the edge,
Frozen in place,
Hoping that the slightest of breeze would knock me over the edge.

I’ve wished to die,
Prayed, even.
I’m just too scared to do it.
**** myself
So I sit there, and stare at that wall,
Dreaming of a “tragedy”
That a car will come out of nowhere,
Or that tiny crack will trip me,
Or maybe I’ll even catch something lethal.
Anything that will **** me,
Anything but myself.

I’m so sorry that I’m still alive.
I’m sorry to you,
And to me.

That I’m a coward.
One can only dream...
A Dash of Red Jan 2016
Welcome to the party, do you have your mask ready?
Everyone’s dressed like the rich and the famous,
And who knows, some of them may be.
Here’s your chance to get out there and make a scene.
Make some memories with some complete strangers.
Or some old friends, you’ll never know.
Oh, but who’s over there?
Across the room, against the wall,
Quietly chatting away with the tall stranger in a crow’s mask.
That’s me, of course!
Where’s my mask, you may ask.
It’s right here, resting perfectly on my face.
Can’t you tell it’s a mask?
No, maybe not.
That’s because this one was made just for me.
I made it myself.
It’s taken me years to perfect it,
So no one would know when I wore it.
I’m sorry I didn’t get a special mask for the occasion,
I didn’t have the time.
And I’m sorry this mask isn’t as festive as the others.
You see, this mask looks just like me, spare a few minor details.
For example, I’m wearing a bright,
Happy,
Smile.
That’s something you’ll never see on my real face.
Please don't take my mask off.
You wouldn't want to see what lay underneath.
  Jan 2016 A Dash of Red
Diana
if you look at her closley
you can see that,
ever now and then
she turns away from her group of friends
her smile falters
and she becomes another person for a few seconds;
a sad person
a person who is broken and damaged,
and after a few depressing seconds,
she goes back to the group,
smiling and joking around,
she almost looks like she is actually happy
but if you look at her closely
you can see how spurious her smile really is
and you can see all the wreckage behind her fake smile.
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