PSA: the following message is the point of view of a fictional character, and in no way represents the current beliefs, views, events, mental or physical health of EMILY ROWE. her inspiration is drawn from her life and the world around her, and her writing is art, just like any other form of self expression. EMILY ROWE is a writer, and would really appreciate it if you would sit back and let the art speak to you and make you feel something. thank you.

i wake in the morning
with the taste of my own blood in my mouth
i try to remember the dreams from last night,
hair falls around my face
the sun scatters across my room
the light tries not to touch me,
the mirror grimaces
holding my reflection like a ****** weapon,
thin red lines
wrap around my waist
from the demon that chased me
under the moon's domain,
the Past is my lover
his hands around my mine
but his grip around my mind,
these are the days
that don't really feel like days at all,
these are the days that slip through my fingers.
my therapist told me to look in the mirror
and tell myself it will be a good day
and it will be so,
but the mirror hides its face from me
afraid to reveal to me what i cannot see,
or what i choose not to see.
rewind the VHS tapes
let's sit around the tv
and let the static fill our ears
and drain out the noise of our hearts.
let's unravel the thread of our souls,
watch them mingle on the bedroom floor.
we'll be screamed at to be less,
be less,
be more,
you're too much,
you're not enough...

I AM MY OWN BEING
TOO MUCH FOR THE MIRROR
NOT ENOUGH FOR THE PAST
TOO MUCH FOR MY PEERS
NOT ENOUGH FOR THOSE ABOVE ME
TOO MUCH FOR HIM
NOT ENOUGH FOR HER

in a generation of instant gratification
they do not have the patience
to watch me grow
in a generation born by the Internet
they do not see deeper
than the surface of what i put on their screens

one day they will see
what has been here inside me
since the day i first picked up a pencil.

let's sit around the tv
let's wait for the tapes to rewind
let's watch our lives unfold