When I will be lying on the ****** ground
drowned in my own misery
They'll look and feel discomfort
because they know that they are the reason
so they shout out
try to hold my cold hand
to ease their conscience
and not because they truly care.
If they had cherished me,
I would've been warm in between their arms
lips flushed with joy
with a heart that still beats.

Our pens have blood for ink,
scarring these pages forever.

At times you speak with no filter
eyes shutter and life becomes darker.
Without the negatives
there are no positives.
Focus, you are your perfect picture.

I can see it.

The Skin encasing my heart, pulsating.

It races.

I struggle for air.

I'm no marathon runner – I'm a chronic smoker with half a lung, with a heart in a condition much worse.

I shut my eyes, in a faint attempt to attempt to faint and shut myself off from everything that I have ever laid my eyes on.

But I still feel it.

I press my finger tips against the skin encasing my heart.

And I wince at every beat.

I'm going crazy
I'm going insane
Please someone
Put me
To rest
Fleeting yet vicious
Thoughts
Are racing through my mind by the
Thousands
I am afraid
I am losing
My mind
I'm thinking
The faint disturbing sounds
From their bedroom
(The strangers I've been living with my whole life)
I'm thinking
I'm wasting away
My life and
My soul
Is rotting and ageing with every
Second
And there is no
Time to stop
Not for breath, not for anything
To the point that
these commas I use feel so
Out of place
Like the words my mother
Gives
As I ask
For synonyms to the words
I deem unfit for
People
Who read
And to those who mock, taunt and ridicule
I hope you understand
That these letters
Addressed
To whoever takes the time to study me twice
Are keeping me from
Running out into
The busy
Road.