Don't come over.
I've gone into Psychosis & shan't wake up.
I don't how long I'll be
But it is not your face I want to think of.
I swear this is not game nor reverse psychology!
As I shout hysterically at the moon
Who betrayed the sun for its perpetuating fear of noir.
A shadow will write a prescription for all to be well.
I'll take it twice a day, medicating this soul
rambling to be let out of its cage.

There's not enough time a day
to be the girl I am.
Seeking a second pay to support her ravenous game.
She requires two feeding times a day:
A Bottle of Cyanide to soothe those demons cold.
A Bottle of Virginity to restore her veins of purity.

Vines swindle & slither along my spine
Clawing & Raking thorns into my thighs.
When will I  realize?
That I am no good, too fat, not thin enough.
I'll wander this Earth, lifetime after another
until I'm emaciated as the rings of Saturn.
Only then will I be thin.

Today, I tried to comfort my 13 year-old self,
But there was nobody there, nobody listening.

It's so cold over there,
So lifeless and sad.
And come to think of it,
I'd rather be mad.

She cries in the middle of the night, hoping one day things would be different.
Then wonders "what if" and suddenly she's indifferent.
And there's nobody there, nobody listening.

I try to make this life as vibrant as can be
For her to finally see
That this is as good as it's gonna get
And that there's nothing she should regret.

But still she storms off in the middle of the night,
Screaming:
"Is anybody there, anybody listening?"

I don't think I can go on
no, not anymore mon cheri.
therein lie a hole that appears to bore and burn my entire existence.
How could I dare steal another breath?
Demons whisper desires upon the rim of my ear
Do you know what they say?

To not feel alive is to jump into the roaring sea, unafraid.
To feel alive is to pull the trigger, blindfolded.
I am incapable of either for I chose to feel everything at once.
A curse I regret to inform you
I would never take back
because to feel everything mon cheri
is to feel you, here, your love, this.

After Fall, Winter
and I haven't changed a bit
lipstick stained coasters crowd
the cluttered memories of your skin
smooth as the first time we kissed
do you remember that?