Suffocated by agony, dazed with confusion
Stuck in reality, that I'd druther be an illusion
Skinned alive, right straight down to raw emotion
Not a save harbor to be found, on my life's raging ocean
A living oxymoron, I'm raw to the touch but inside hollow
How much more will I be forced to swollow

I must be looking mighty strong
See the universe, keep piling it on
Can't anybody at all tell
Still in the middle of my living hell
Birds tweeting like nothings wrong
Mocking me with their sweet song

How much longer will I stand in front of life's curtain
Knowing only pain and sorrow are for certain
Drowning in the deepest darkest grief
Innocence, love, joy, and sanity, stolen by the thief
How much longer will it be till that final decision
Before it's made, that final incision

I must be looking mighty strong
See the universe, keep piling it on
Can't anybody at all tell
Still in the middle of my living hell
Birds tweeting like nothings wrong
Mocking me with their sweet song

Only a shadow of what I could of been
Being made to atone for mine and other's sin
I've tasted on my lips everything that could mar
Inside and out I wear the battle scars
Should I step behind the final veil
Slice myself out if this prison cell


©Pauline Russell

I lay in bed listening to the rain
Falling against my windowpane
Soothing but still I cannot sleep
All I can do is think and weep

I wonder when did I get like this
Constantly thinking of those I miss
Worrying about how I’ll end up
Draining the coffee from my cup

It’s 2 AM now I think think think
Further into myself I sink sink sink
My bed is cold and filled with tears
I Feel like I’ve been awake for years

Insomnia has gotten the best of me
My eyes are open, but I barley see
The world is fuzzy through my eyes
Each night another piece of me dies

I am living, fighting,
some even say I am surviving,
but inside I'm dying,
inside it smells of death.

Where are my flowers?
Thorns now burst,
I've lost count of the hours
spent crying, wishing for death
and being teased endlessly by it,
only to be told death
had no room for me.

I've thought about scissors
in non-artistic ways,
I've discovered that paper is
not the only thing you can cut,
I've tried teaching my lungs to breathe
Father, they give up on me
and every breath stings,
But you specialize in rebirth,
so hand me a pair of new wings.

I'm tired of fighting,
I'm tired of this war,
I'm tired of wondering what
I am here for,
I'm tired of existing this way,
I'm tired of these chains
I wear everyday.

If I am a free temple,
then why do I feel encaged?
Encaged in my own mind
where light you won't find,
locked behind bars,
wishing on stars,
begging scars to disappear,
hoping nobody witnesses my tears.