Your words are like a knife
and you hold it to my throat
with the power to end me,
to take my life.
You tear through my skin
slowly, reveling in my pain,
watching the blood
drip down my collar bone,
bleeding me out,
bathing in my blood.
It seeps into your pores
making you stronger,
as I become weak.
And somehow I stay every time,
because right before I'm drained
you pull back the knife
and tell me "I love you."

A mask is what you see
No one knows the real me
No not even I
No matter how I try
the rhymes can mask the pain
but i feel it everyday
trying to break its way
to the surface
and show that what you see
is not the real me
but a mask to cover up
the girl who is lost but,
the walls are holding strong
you cant hear her screams or song
sung painfully and slow
its depressing, i know,
but the truth is so  much worse
than the mask you see first
so keep that mask in mind
when finally breaks the ryhme
broken, fading
faster
loosing control
desiccating
darkness consumes
falling
gone.

Broken's almost whole right?
I'm just missing a couple pieces.
  I just need to tape them up
    never mind the creases.
Lost is almost found right?
I just need to find my way.
Blindly searching
   Tripping over my own feet
     screaming out your name.
Alone is almost together right?
I can hear your laughter clear.
maybe if I pull this trigger
   I'll be with you again
      my dear.

I put words in to rhymes
and I call it poetry
my mind on paper
to help keep my sanity.
You may not like my poems
think they're basic and lacking
but my words are my art
from my heart that is cracking.
If you read through my soul
and find that you can relate
that's all I can ask for
from poets so great.
So give me critiques
cut my words down to size
make them bleed out
the feelings inside.
Help me, don't hurt me
just give me your wisdom
show me how to grow
and I'll feed off your criticism.

Here, take a drag,
  one hit won't **** you.
but it will burn your eyes and throat.
The horrid taste make makes me gag,
I guess I'll take another drag
       blow out the smoke.
  One hit won't **** me,
What about two or twenty?
   burning my lungs
       shortening my breathing
thousand of drags later
I'll hit the floor
Screaming
ONE DRAG WONT **** ME!
THEN HOW MANY WILL?
There are easier ways to die.

He broke her.
Took a knife to her heart,
twisted the blade,
and watched her bleed.
But it wasn't enough.

He broke her.
Chained up her soul,
so tight it cut deep,
and he reveled in her agony.
But it wasn't enough.

He broke her.
He beat her will,
battered and bruised it,
He watched it crumble and crack.
But it wasn't enough.

He broke her.
Tortured her mind
with her own self worth
and watched her go insane.
But it wasn't enough.

He broke her.
Gave her the poison,
helped pull the trigger,
he watched the life leave her eyes.
Was it enough?

He broke her.
And she let him,
giving him everything,
including her last breath.
Was it enough?