None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.
       ~John Wolfgang von Goethe

Maybe,
If I do enough to disguise myself
While I am here,
Nobody will actually notice
When I'm gone..

She's three today.
You're sitting in a concrete tomb.
Should haves, could haves and I wills won't replace time. She's three and she loves her mom.
And you're gone.
"I love you all heart daddy." Or " I wanna nuggle you daddy." When the needle hit, was it those words that pierced your viens?
Maybe the images of her and baby brother, like when you used to read them books and take baths with them. Are those the images you were trying to burn when the flame hit that tinfoil?
How about that smile?  That precious ****** smile that stretched from ear to ear when you occasionally walked through the door. Is that what pushed you to abandon your life for that *****?
What about your girl? Was it her caring too much? Loving too much? Her having your back after you would constantly **** her over? Was everything just too good for you?
I hope the worth adds up. And I hope the foods real good and those boys are real nice, because God ******, she turned three today.

You're image is burnt into everything, everywhere. I see the pure brown circles of everything right and true. Up, that is where I look to find your eyes. Your ever so spellbinding eyes.
I go to Pandora, put on 'everything is okay' radio. Your voice melts my heart. I devour the words right from your mouth. You're from Jersey but that **** country accent pulls the trigger.
The touch of your body is the deadliest sin, the deep sunset over the disappearing horizon. The smell of the air on the thawing spring morning. You're everything I'm not and that's your advance.
You're a riddle. A read between the lines kinda person. You're black ice. You're a killer without warning. A maniac of your own device.
My heart is torn right through my chest. You make beautiful masterpieces from my blood and leave my useless corpse for the relentless lost dying to be found.
You show me everything I want and everything I can never have. You. You are a tug of war rope. I am either ends while you play with my head. I pull for what I want and I pull for I can have. And you laugh. And you grin.
You are everything I want and everything I can not have. You are so good, but you are everything that is so bad. You are an angel sent from the pits of hell, and I'm just looking for a good person to be bad with.

From the time that I wake up, until the time I go to bed, I find myself in a constant debate with things I'll never do and words that are never said.
  The sun beams through the window at an unforgiving hour. This coma is getting harder to wake up from. The dead weight I've been carrying around is starting to show its wear. My energy has finally built to abandon this burial hole of a bed, but the day has already gone and went.
  Am I stuck? I mean that's the only explanation that agrees with me. I'm drowning as I watch the life around me thriving. In fact, I think life is mocking me. But all is well, for my room is clean. My annex is clean. My room is clean.
  Who am I kidding? The annex in which I call my room is clean enough now that the next couple of days are fine. The next couple days that I will spend here. With myself. Or at least I wish it was myself.
  I may be escaping people, but my mind is worse than people. My thoughts hate me, they tell me everyday. And I just want quiet. No thought, no lies, no problems...just quiet. But I sit here stuck. Stuck with what wasn't,  what isn't and what won't ever be.