Still as I speak
She tears apart herself from within
Using her own hands
She prys apart all that she is
And in her mind
Such a battle is this

Make them cry.
Make then scream.
Let them produce a bucket of tears to add to the ocean that is her own.

Crazy.
Yes.
A mind that has to long wandered afar, aloof and alone; and been pushed through many things that should not be endured.

All at once she crumbles
And who cares for such a thing as rocks and ruin when they no longer are walls.
None.

So such is this, that she would die, to herself. For fear runs her over and she regresses into all that she has fought so long to be free from.

I have endured enough
For every battle I fight taxes me and I am spent
My pockets are empty and my mind much to full
So I relinquish to the night all that I am.