All of you.
Where do you get off
making a name for yourself
out of the mockery
in fallen heroes’ hearts?
What’s in a name;
that which we call
"a genius"
by another label
would be found on the front page
of the obituaries.

And now,
what?
Where do you go from
the top,
looking down on those you
trampled on the way
with some false sense of humility?
How we perceive you now
is like that of a crime lord;
envious,
never aspirational.

Might as well
call it a day
and take note of the
fallacy
that is fame and fortune.

I can't seem to
fall asleep
anymore.
I lay awake
in bed staring
at my barren
ceiling,
thinking.
Thinking about
how broken I
am...how you
broke me...
It's been 5
******* years
and I'm still
trying to put
myself back
together from
the first time.
I'm still trying
to mend all my
pieces into one
again.
I don't think I
ever really
realized how
broken you
made me till
now...
But one day I
will be whole
again.

They only saw her dimensions
As though there were no curves in her edges
Treated her like she was just a box,
Picking at her the way they would pick at locks,
Trying to steal her internal content,
Showing her how society circles bent,
That if she hadn't followed trends,
There'd be no light at tunnel's end.

So thorns were pricked of the rose,
Leaving her completely exposed,
As though she was part of shows,
Because people only saw her looks.
Roses wilt and wither
And what made her her, vanished with her.
She became a walking advertising sign,
For what it meant to colour within the line.

I won't walk anywhere with you, because I'm crawling to the end. You can get down with me if it pleases you, or you could go right on ahead

This was not love making.
This was sin
and the devil victoriously
danced between the sheets.