Sometimes it's heartbreaking
to look the woman
who gave me life
in the eye,
because I don't want this life
anymore.

"What happened to you?"
You ask me when you come back. "You're so Different now."

You took my essence, my fire, and my soul when you left and you tried to place them into someone else, but they didn't fit. Now you stand before me, and you dare ask me what happened? How could you?

"Life." I simply answer. "I grew up."

I have become my nightmare,
the girl who always hid in
the far depths of my mind,
tangled in weeds with terror
surrounding her,
There was always a curious chaos
about her that I both yearned and feared,
I will become the beauty of the mess,
and my soul with tangle with hers like art.
I am my own nightmare
and I will embrace it.

Our hands,
they tangle as if
in prayer in
the religion that is
our love.

I want to go home
but I am home.
I'm homesick
for a home I don't have
and it's the scariest and
saddest feeling yet.

i'm your weakness,
your own personal drug.
I'm your high,
You're my low.

I awake with the dripping anxiety of death
It's puppetry crafting my fears with its laced strings
Making me do the dance of regret and guilt
The darkness consumes me as I writhe with the agonising realisation

I am not alone
I am going to die
I see my tombstone
I see my soul starting to fly

But why?


That night when the moonlights silver ribbons danced across the darkest ocean.
His face dripping with the crimson liquid that shows the sign of life
Sirens echoed as red and blue flashed into the night.
It was my fault.
It's always my fault


He died because of me
And now I can't see

I can't sleep
I can't breathe
Save me... please
Save me from this nightmare

Be kind they said
Don't lie they said
Leave them behind they said
But don't comply; or have I misread?

They turned their skulls from the vultures that hurt their prey
As they spit their venomous words like "worthless" and "alone"
Yet they call these names "harmless child's play"
But it is "child's play" when that child is now a gravestone?

You see I was a victim of these words
Those razor sharp words that slice you apart piece by piece
But I had to cry out or sit staring at a wall
So that I could discover a tiny bit of release


As I battled those words day after day
I also battled my thoughts to keep sane
Yet the vultures never deceased
And the teachers attention decreased

But why?

Why didn't the care enough to aid?
They walked on by with no remorse
The did nothing and I was left frayed

Will it ever be the same?