She fell down from the sky,
shrouded in mystery.
Her story a tragedy, unknown to the world.

There she lies before me.
She seems so peaceful.

In her face you can see all her worries have gone.

There she lies before me.
She seems so calm.

People are screaming around her,
but she can't hear a thing.
She is profoundly asleep.
Numbed out of this world;
out of her pain.

There she lies before me.
She seems so beautiful.

She knew where she was going,
and dressed accordingly.
She put on her Sunday best.
She climbed the Empire State Building.
She opened her wings into a new world.

*There she lies before me.
She seems so alive.

Can't wake up this morning.
Can't face another day.
The night is more comforting.
The light; it burns. It's pain.

My will is gone or broken.
I'm too beat to even tell.
The words I haven't spoken
are dragging me to hell.

Retaliation or submission.
I lose in any case.
Can't fight in this condition.
Won't death come take me away?

I give up! I give up!
I'm bleeding out this love.
Tie a noose on the end of this rope.
Tie the other end high above.

I could sing you a happy song.
I could hear you all day long.
I could get drunk on your smile.
I could for the longest time.

I could stare into your eyes;
cliché says they tell no lies,
but in them I would find you,
and this feeling all so new.

I'd get lost around your lips.
Draw you with my fingertips.
Whisper poems and your name.
Maybe you could do the same.

I could write you a fairy tale.
Rhyme in verses without fail.
I could make all pens run dry
trying hard to make you fly.

I can think of many things
I could say if you were here,
and I know I will one day
'cause I will meet you someday.

She is lost inside herself.
Her screams silenced by fear.
Trapped within her head.
Alone with her own thoughts.
Sweating blood out of her pores,
and crying painful, darkened tears.
Drawing scars on her own skin
just so she can feel.
She sits alone on a corner
inside her self made cell
tapping faintly on the cold floor
in arrhythmic despair.
She can't even hear her voice
calling out to the outer world,
but she isn't anymore
in the realm of the living.
She is frightened to know.
She hides in herself again
forever to be lost
in her own, made up cage.

Sitting on the steps before your front door.
You were only fifteen.
Wearing denim pants, red sneakers, and a tank top,
and your face full of tears.
Two hours, twenty minutes, and ten seconds ago
you wore your heart on your sleeve.
You'd seen him. You'd met him. You were crazy for him,
but you woldn't believe.
Your green eyes. Your red lips. Your wavy, blonde hair.
None of that could he see,
while I sat on the steps before your front door
hoping you would see me.

Twenty four hours a day.
Seven days a week.
I miss you when you're not in bed.
I miss you when we speak.

But when I get to see you
my frown turns upside down.
Your luscious lips. Your beady eyes.
Your naked back, and **** thighs.

I must admit my weakness.
For me you are too much.
You make me feel so warm inside
without even your touch.

I love the way you look at me
when we're alone in my room.
It is the way you steal my breath
that will lead to my doom.

You watch me. You tease me.
You encourage lustful behaviour.
You're quiet, yet screaming;
the cards turn in your favour.

You got me. I'm yours.
Even if you don't know it.
This secret I will keep,
for I'm starting to love it.

Have you heard the news?
The age of self loathing is reaching its end.
The winds are changing in our favour,
and they bring fortune, and success, and love.
Embrace this new age of prosperity.
Make it your own.
Forget about the past, and live for the day.
Throw your worries out the window,
and breathe the fresh air blowing in from the streets.
Let it fill your lungs, and fuel your actions
so you can achieve your dreams,
no matter how far-fetched they may seem.
If you believe in yourself, no one will stop you.
Cry out your pain,
and find a reason to smile again,
to love again,
to give the next step and continue your path,
for life is but a road trip,
and you are the driver.

She owns me. She ******* owns me.
She owns my mind. She owns my heart.
She owns my breath, my gaze, my thoughts...
I'm hers, and, yet, I am not.
She won't care for what she has.
She mistreats me.
She hurts me.
She confuses me.
Little by little, she breaks me.
Piece by piece I crumble.
Slowly I lose myself in this black hole from which I can't escape.
She won't let me go,
because she owns me.
How was I foolish enough to fall for it again?

And it all has gone downhill from there.

Hello, Alex. You look so good today. Like you did yesterday. Your smile is still as cute, and your eyes as shiny and hipnotizing. I want a hug now, and many kisses later. It's a demand.

She wrote these words in my notebook, in the middle of class.
I smiled and looked at her.
Sent her a kiss.
She blushed.

Next class we sat next to each other.
She was tired; stayed up late doing homework.
She would rest her head on my shoulder, and hold my hand.
I could feel the *butterflies in my stomach, and my heart racing.

After school we both went to her house.
She put on her pijamas, and got into bed.
I layed next to her, holding her in my arms.
She looked so calm and pretty.
I started giving her little kisses on her cheek, on her forehead, on her neck, on her lips.

Oh, her sweet lips!
She gives the most sweetest, tender and loving kisses I've ever had.
Her kisses are full of passion and care.

I could hardly breathe.
She has the ability to make me lose my breath.
My heart was racing, and she could feel it.
We kissed and held each other tight, marveled at how our bodies fit perfectly with one another.

My hands found their way under her blouse, drawing her slim silhouette with my fingertips.
Running down her chest to her stomach.
From her hips to her thighs.
Her skin was so soft it felt like velvet under my fingers.
She started doing the same to me.
Her fingers traced a distinct line going from my chest to my belt, and further below.

Her lips were still upon mine.
My breath still missing.

Her top was off.
My shirt also gone.
Her arms around me.
My arms around her.
Hands going under the clothes.
Heavy breathing.
Muffled moaning.
No more clothes.

Her body couldn't be any more perfect than it already is.
I was lost kissing her tasty neck, biting slightly, while I grasped her small, perky *******.
Her skin was so warm and cozy.
I couldn't get enough of her.

Me touching her.
Her touching me.
My breath was nowhere to be found.
I felt ecstatic.
I was in heaven.

After all was done, we both laid there, right next to each other.
She was still in my arms as we both tried to catch our breaths back.
We looked at each other in the eyes.
We smiled at each other and kissed one more time.

*I could've died in that moment.

Again I find myself sitting in this lonely room,
listening to the empty echo of my own thoughts.

Day after day the same routine:
Get up.
Conceal yourself.
Go to bed.
Repeat.

This machine is fully functional,
yet lacks a definite purpose for existing.
It only takes up space.

This loneliness I can bear no longer.

I run to get the nearest blade.
It is rusty and old.
As broken as my own dreams.
I hold it shakingly between my fingers.
I draw a crooked line upon my wrist.
Before I know it, ink is gushing out of the wound.
It keeps on pouring until it leaves me dry.
It floods pages upon pages with words,
with phrases,
with verses.

These same pages remind me of wounds long healed.
Of the struggles I've been through to end up where I am now.

The pages tell a unique story.

My story.