24.07.07 - by Kristie Townsend
3 October 2009 at 17:36

In a darkened pit
a space in which I seem to fit
despair, fear, my escorts here
and paranoia chased hard at my rear

been given a label
a title, of which I am quite able
to stick upon my frowning forehead
whilst still wishing I was dead

suicidial emotions
irrational words spoken
secret ritual, daily self harm
like starvation and cutting my arm

plaster on that fake grin
take it all on my chin
never to surrender, never to give in
for I am merely another child borne of sin

i'll just
sit here
and smoke
the memory
of you
into ash