I am a Coliseum—
Broken, but still standing,
A relic of past glory,
Hinting at a time when I stood tall, whole, and victorious.
When the battles fought within me were always won by the hero.

But slowly, the battles grew harder.
The hero began to falter,
Until she lost everyone.
Until her determination shattered like glass,
Almost as sharp as the razor blade against my walls.
Until crimson blood leaked from her chest,
Staining my jeans as it spilled from our bodies in unison.

She died, and I was left in a gray, hollow way of living.
Trying to make sacrifices of my own flesh
To revive the fearless woman she once was.
But I failed—again and again—
Fighting my own battles,
Facing my own shadowed lions,
Until I, too, was dead.

I've decided to stay that way.
Tablets for writing may record it,
And tablets for pain may propel it.
I drink some water to make it easier to swallow

If there's one thing I take away from this,
It's that you need to be a free thinker,
And make your own decisions.

If you want to believe something,
You should look into it first,
I don't know the people this may hurt.

They'll hurt you darling,
But only if you let them.
They'll burn you down,
But only because you're beautiful.
They'll mock your song,
But only for the fact they've never known their own sound.
In time darling, they will love you as well.

Ive walked alone all through

The silence promising torture

Yet nobody bothered to shadow

And when i did get a shadow

That made the rays less scorching

It became a thing

To condemn my soul

To condemn my company

It Didn't matter

That my smiles were bigger

On some days brighter

Its their own thoughts,
Their own designs

That was most important

Yet its ironic

How clueless

How self absorbed they are

That its my soul

Never theirs

And I've never tried to disarm theirs

as the bullet pierces through
the love for you spills out too
thoughts unsaid
prays unheard
what drips from my writ once was love.

The world doesnt care that you exist
hide your pain and slit your wrists
cover the scars and let them bleed
black out at school filled with greed
get home cut deeper and dont let them see you cry
so pathetic
you dont get it
dont look me in my eyes

hurt yourself
your hurting others
but do you even care
stupid little sunshine
if i hurt you its only fair.

i lost a friend today.
not to death.
almost to death.
i called the police as they attempted.
they have stopped talking to me.
they are angry

i lost a friend today
i wish i had done better.
they almost left.
without a word.
i wish they hadnt told me.

i lost a friend today.

I'm in the ocean,
I'm in the land.
For I reside in the feeble mind of man,
And all it takes for me to spread,
Is the fingers curling in a man's hand.
Who am I?

She wanted to blow a hole
Inside the temple of tomorrow,
Ripping the facade of false hope,
Shattering dreams she cannot borrow.

"Tell me! Accept me! Forgive my weaknesses!"
The screams of a soul torn apart,
A monster forged in the furnace of hatred,
Their abuse painted across her heart.

Only the burn of chemicals calms the beast,
Trapped in the past, never released.
Another hit to muffle the cries,
But demons resurface as the high dies.

Death whispers with a silencer's breath,
Golden child lies in the shadow of death.
She, the unwanted, she, the broken,
Rage withdraws where words are unspoken.

He never fought them, never stood tall,
Just smiled as she crumbled, watching her fall.
"Look in the mirror, who will save you now?"
Her reflection screams, but she doesn’t know how.

Comfort carved in the lines of her flesh,
Destruction's lover, her only caress.
"Don’t leave me all alone!" she cries,
Echoes of pain through empty skies.

A child estranged, silent and cold,
Unaware of the horrors untold.
She bears the weight, the scars of despair,
A temple in ruins, no one left to care.

So she screams to the void,
To the gods of tomorrow,
Take her sorrow, take her sorrow!
But they leave her hollow.

No soft lullabies for this rage,
no bedtime tales for the scars.
Her rebellion, a waltz in combat boots,
spiked with grunge, venom, and a scream
that split the dawn like broken glass.
No lowering of voices—
it was them who whispered ******
while she carried the weight of silence,
their pills clutched in cold fists.

Madness was no surrender,
no white flag to psychiatrists
and their bottled truths.
She danced instead,
barefoot with demons that knew her name,
their laughter a dirge,
their touch as real as chains.

Words slithered into mirages—
truth, lies, all indistinct,
a love once pure now shadowed,
a muse now bound by sleepless nights
and post-traumatic hymns.
Our Lady of Sorrows bled for a flock
that prayed in her shadow,
kneeling in borrowed guilt.
But when she bled,
no one looked.

Plans drawn in whispered ink—
a razor’s edge,
a promise of release.
Love, a phantom now,
its face distorted with time,
matured, stretched thin by distance.
The scream of silence grew louder,
and demons conversed until the sun rose,
its light bruising the horizon.

She was no saint.
She forgave no trespasses.
But as the dawn burned anew,
there lingered a pulse,
a faint rhythm of hope—
love not redeemed,
but waiting,
coiled like a spring
for the next dance.