You spit out
a dry laugh
to try to hide
the death
in your eyes.
The desert
you call a soul
is so full
of memories
that prick
your mind
like cactuses
drawing pieces
of your happiness
like blood.
You try
to wash away
the reflection
in the mirror
with the salty rivers
pouring through
your tear ducts,
but that only blurs
your view
of reality.
You use your blade
to paint a more beautiful life
on your thighs
with crimson hopes
that someone will notice.
The happiness
of the life
you once had known
is buried deep
in the graveyard
of your thoughts
but the skeletons
you keep
in your closet
are in full view.
You dress them
in armor
and they fight off
the love of the ones
who care for you
like an elite force
of warriors determined
on destroying
the foreign feeling
of compassion.
You try to replace
the feeling of love
with the lust
of boys who's tongues
whip you with lies.
You plead with
every God
you have
ever heard of
every single night
to save you
from the darkness
but the doubt
in your heart
snuffs out their light.
Every day
you kill off
another piece
of your self
with the sword
of depression
leaving an
empty shell
of a person
in your place.
When are you going
to realize that
you're my reflection
and I'm trying
to shatter the mirror?