When the Sun rises,
When the birds come out.
When the stars fade,
When a sunny day comes.
When I wake up,
The first thing I want
Is a message from you.
When you reply you make me smile.
I am so glad I met someone so special,
Thats you.

she was 12,
of course no one believed her.
she was 12,
of course she was blamed.
she was 12,
of course she thinks its her fault.
she was 12,
of course they laughed at her when she opened up about it.
she was 12,
of course she thought it was love.
she was 12,
of course it was the clothes.
she was 12,
of course she couldn't press charges.
she was 12,
of course it still haunts her.
she was 12,
of course she's disgusted by her self.
she was 12,
of course she wasn't taken seriously.
she was 12.

My wings fracture as you demand what I cannot give,
Images of my form,
though I've whispered no.
In this strange dance, I despise the shell and cherish the soul within—
Yet you remain blind to its glow.

Your eyes seek only bare skin; they dismiss my silent plea.

3AM
And just like that its the night before Christmas.
You leave your room, go downstairs: you must be quiet, everyone's asleep. You stare at the Christmas Tree that's glowing like the brightest star, that reminds you of all the memories before it all went wrong. You stare at it for a while. But after few minutes you leave and go back to your room. You slowly grab the blade and slash down to your wrist. You scream, waking up the dog and mom. Mom only heard the dog bark so she isnt aware that you are bleeding to death.

8AM
The dog barks widely, waiting for you to open the door, not knowing that you won't.
Your mom screams down the hallway echoing at you to take care of the dog, but you don't respond.
Something is odd. You are not replying like you usually do.

8:30AM
Mom comes to check up on you, she assumed you were asleep, she opens the door and finds your dead body in a pool of blood. What a shame, such talentful child passed away by thinking it is a failure.

The kiss of the man,
The scar on her head,
She saw the darkness in her.
The wrist that she cuts,
The wall that she punched,
She didn't speak that much.
The love she gave was never enough,
All she ever was her body,
Not her soul, not her heart.