poetry is the whole piece that fills the void that you left
please clean up after yourself next time
i speak so nonchalantly about it, but i feel as if i'm dead
poetry is the only thing not filled to the brim with dread
i want to live like a normal teenager
but memories bounce around my head, like they are trying to crack my skull
and flood the earth, like Pandora's Box
i volunteer as a scrape-goat
to be sacrificed, so more deserving people never feel pain
take my ability to speak and give it to the Gods as a gift
i want people to know, i've just been hurt
no, i'm not depressed
yes, i was suicidal
no, i didn't cut
i just wanted it.. to end
the pain is.. subdued
cynical and screaming
i was stuck in a storm
rain pouring on my head
no one was around for miles, and i was drowning in sorrow
now, i only see sunshine