It's eating me up alive,
Or am I too rotten to be fed?
Alone, inside-out, my head—
Let me out of this horror fest.

Pictures became archives,
Of a repetitive, stagnant time.
Anger manifests itself—
Am I rotten enough yet?

A sharp pain in my chest;
I put on a smile instead.
Juices seeping out, blood-red—
Pages fill my medical files.

Is it supposed to be a crime?
I am my own target.
The old folks lied—
An apple couldn't keep me alive.

Words cut deeper than knives,
Wounds that fester in my mind.
Home to others, not myself—
Am I rotten enough yet?

Who am I?
I think to myself all the time.

I want to be someone.
But how do I figure that out?

I have this dream.
But is that who I really am?

How do I know?
I feel lonely and
Scared.

Life is a clock.
Keeps moving
Never stopping.

One day.
I will be left behind.

While the world moves on.
Slowly, but
Surely.

Steady.
But I am not ready
For the universe

To see me
For who I am.
Who I want to be.

I am frightented
To challenge myself.

Monotonic movements.
Day by day.

Feeling low.
Drunk on daydreams.

When will I feel whole?
When will I be...

ME?

The tears running down my face are like endless streams there’s no stopping them
And the mask I wear destroys itself at night
Because at night is where I truly become myself
You fool the ones you love and betray yourself in becoming someone you once could never imagine to be
You ride a roller coaster with the name Life and it’s something you battle all the time it’s never ending
You try and appreciate everything but everything you do is taken for granted and your beautiful light soul becomes the darkest one