I'm like a pencil,
you can use me for now,
but eventually I'll break.

I've been sinking in the ocean,
I've been sinking in the sea,
I've been drowning ever since- you left me,

Since you left me, I can't breathe,
I can't do a single thing,
Since you left me, I've been broken,
Into a thousand little pieces,

I can't sing,
I can't live,
I can't love again, because,

I've been sinking in the ocean,
I've been sinking in the sea,
I've been sinking ever since- you left me,

I'm like a lone lost ship,
Floating out to sea,
There's nothing to hold on to,
While I wither away and sink,

I've been sinking in the ocean,
I've been sinking in the sea,
Ever since- you left me.

Pencil, I write with thee,
Ideas give unto me,
Storms of brains,
Give me thoust worst rains.

Words start flowing,
So the story can keep going and going,
Like how boats will keep rowing and rowing,
And sewing machines, sewing and sewing.

Stanzas continue to get longer,
Therefore, providing fuller pages,
And it unlocks these thoughts,
From their cages.

The cages are now discarded,
So I'll end the same way I started.

I looked into the mirror,
Looking glass of the unwanted,
I stared at that glass waiting for it's reveal,
Who dare stand on the other end of this glass,
Staring at them as they stare at me and I stare at an empty body,
Look at me,
Looking for the lost,
I am not lost,
I am borrowed,
On borrowed grievances,
I stare at the two-sided glass,
I burn holes with my stares,
Straight on through,
Not a person on the otherside,
but a wall full of mirror,
Not a single one looked like me,
And that's when I knew,
The two-sided glass was an unjust array,
Another exposé,
Of all my unwanted insanity.

I cause pain,
But I don't mean to,
I make people cry,
But I don't mean to,
I shout at the top of lungs wildly,
But I don't mean to,
I scratch at my skin till blood comes,
Wishing I were someone else,
Because I inflict horror,
But I don't mean to.

It's been a while since I've felt whole,
My heart is no longer burning in the depths of hell,
My heart is soaring with the angels among the clouds,
I usually write to relieve stress,
To take to my pain and leave it on a page,
But today I write because I'm doing alright,
I guess I'll write again when the pain comes back to bite.

Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But only words can break my heart.

I hate myself,
Someone wrote that once,
On the bathroom stall door,
It reads,
I hate myself,
I hate myself,
I hate myself,
But why,
Why do you feel that way,
Why do you write that,
Who are you,
Don't you know you're loved,
God loves,
God doesn't hate you,
So why do you say that,
I hate myself,
So bland,
Tasteless but taste like blood,
Three short words,
So empty,
But so alarming,
Who are you,
Where are you,
You know I stare at that door,
Why hate,
I'll cry for you,
I don't know you,
But I cry for you,
So why,
Why write such words,
I hate myself,
I hate myself,
I hate myself,
Why not love?