She calls you in the middle of the night
Her voice as sharp as knives
And she says she wants to die
Not to **** herself
Never
Only she doesn't want to be alive
No one knows better than you

It’s been a year
The clock strikes midnight
And its been a year
But this isn’t Cinderella
Or another stupid fairytale
Because it’s been a year
Since anyone has loved you
Or at least pretended they did
There have been people
Who have itched to touch you
Feel your skin under their hands
Sure,
But in the end
You’re left without being desired
For anything more than your body
Maybe it’s easier to make-believe the passion
For romance
But all of the endings are the same
Crying yourself to sleep is your
Happily ever after

Did we make it home
After years of wandering?
Can we see the lights?

Sorry for the nightmares
And the crying when the sky is dark
Maybe you know more than you should
Understand more than you ought to
Even when the tears come
Loneliness won't come before you

She wears sweaters and sleepless nights on her skin like pink dresses in the summertime
insomnia should finally win her this fashion contest
But she isn't skinny enough
At night she screams herself awake and no one else
They don't hear her when she talks when the sun is up either
Her toes curl up and the rest of her follows
This is just another body wishing itself real

I was always your daughter.
You weren't always my father.

It could be so easy to leave you.
Leave you wondering.
Because I have unashamedly given you my all and I have gotten nothing in return.
All empty silence.
It could be so easy to leave you when you have faded out to feel like you were never there in the first place.