Who am I to keep fighting?
To hold onto something that's
crumbling beneath my fingertips?
I'm not the strong girl I was.
My soul aches for a break,
to be happy in complete solitude.
But there is no light
at the end of this tunnel.

Happiness was once on my doorstep,
begging for me to come outside.
But I slammed the door and locked it.
Instead of leaving,
I released my inner demons.
They taunt me and remind me that I am weak.

I can't resist the urge
to carve my pain into my skin.
I can't seem to look away as
the rushing blood stains my sheets.

Who am I?
Certainly not a soldier, fighting to survive.
My gun has been broken and ruined.
Certainly not an innocent girl
who lacks the knowledge to carry on.
I am stuck in complacency,
willing to accept my fate instead of change it.

I feel empty and hopeless,
praying for the day happiness returns.
And instead of knocking,
it kicks my door down and steals my soul
before this darkness overwhelms me.