it was dark,
the things she wrote,
the thoughts she had,
the lies that marked her porcelain skin.
her voice screamed, "help!"
and yet the demon inside
ripped her voice away
piece by piece until only
death remained inside her mind.

her eyes couldn't see the lies
for the fog that was made of pure deception
clouded her mind and filled her lungs
with the lies swirling inside her.
the smoke became too much
and the demons would only let her see
the vein on her wrist and the
box of blades that were just
waiting...
and
waiting...
they were waiting for her to  b    re       a          
                                                     ­                        k
to be p    u  s  h      e            d      to far
to make her feel everything
and then nothing at all.

As she wrote desperately,
trying to find her inner peace,
she died, sacrificing herself to those demons inside
she found eternal silence,
one that not even the angels could hear.
My dear, didn't you know that you were an angel?
Why did you believe the voices that said you couldn't fly?
Why did you believe the god forsaken lies?
Why?