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.

Stay warm and safe, the frost bites deep,
Clinically clean, your wounds won't weep.
Bare white thoughts, they echo purity,
But you're one of his, dying gently.

Generations bleed for a precious cause,
Love’s a little touch in a world with flaws.
Dreams drift like ash in the breath of life,
I've seen too much, yet remain the child.

Troubled lifetimes, reincarnations twist,
Honest goodbyes slip through the mist.
Chasing the truth with a golden dragon,
Nothing’s impossible—dive in, abandon.

From darkness I scream, reaching for the rock,
He stands firm as my reality shocks.
Unexpected surprise, you bear my pain,
I am nothing without you, insane refrain.

Bulletproof faith, I let it all out,
Dictator bloodline, my grandad's route.
Strong characters play chicken on the road,
Russian roulette, where raw honesty explodes.

Stay warm and safe, for the frost bites deep,
Bare your wounds, but no need to weep.
In chaos, in love, in blood-soaked rhyme,
We rise and fall, defying time.

The eyes—mirrors of sins, fragments of something deeper, darker—reflected back as she stared, hollow but alive in the stillness. She felt the starvation of the beast within her, pacing, clawing, a quiet desperation gnawing at her ribs. Her wings spread like the golden dawn's promise, a cruel mirage of escape, yet the weight of life pulled her back, anchoring her to the earth.

In the quiet hours, he whispered, we’re always alone, and the words nestled like burrs in her mind, scratching, lingering. She felt their truth seep in, unavoidable and raw, threading itself into the fabric of her mind like stitches holding together a wound that refused to heal.

Vivid dreams clawed at her in sleep—visions of other lives, other faces, shadowed figures speaking to her in gestures, fingers dancing in sign language, secrets woven in the air. She would wake in paralysis, shackled in silence, eyes wide as if staring into a void that she knew was watching her, always watching.

Scars of hope, she thought, tracing the lines on her arms, the stories she'd written in flesh, layered beneath the numb veil of sedatives. She had cut past ties in time, sharp and clean, slicing away the tethers that bound her to memory, to faces that no longer lingered in her dreams. Every attempt had been a rebirth, each suicide a reawakening of truth. And yet, she had awoken again, the wilting pulse of survival pressing her forward.

The elders would decide—her fate, her future, as if it were some verdict to be handed down from faceless arbiters of her despair. She walked into the darkness as if it were her home, her familiar lover, arms open to its hollow embrace, knowing it would never abandon her. There were no more tomorrows, only a slow descent into silence, punctuated by the beat of a dying heart.

And as the night stretched on, she listened

Look into my eyes, a kaleidoscope of thoughts,
Fractured, refracting, endless.
So many choices, each a dagger’s tip,
Sharp, glinting in the shadow of paths untraveled.

They hurt the beast because they feared it—
A presence lingering like smoke in an empty room,
A whisper of what was always known.
The OD, quick and painless, invites us all,
A final door that clicks cleanly, slicing through the noise.

Why him, if you knew?
Knew the jeweled words would stab,
Their brilliance reflecting a hate that devoured.
Lonely strangers, relinquished and raw,
Digging holes with greedy hands,
Starving for connection, aching with regret.

She was different—
Too much, too close,
Her truth a mirror to the ghosts he denied.
She heard their whispers,
Too intense for his brittle comfort,
Her very being a revolting challenge.

Each second, a journey in shards.
She, finally accepted—by a psychopath—
No longer escaping the world’s biting sorrows.
Damaged children, raising damaged children,
Grasping for something whole,
Exploring the wounds like maps,
Each scar an unspoken truth.

His "I don’t love you anyway,"
A mourning, a death,
Memories strangled as he choked time from her lungs.
His cruel laugh, a vibration cutting through marrow.
But peace comes, soft and unstoppable,
A river of silent love,
Strong and masculine, like wild horses running untamed.

We don’t have a price.
Some define freedom in dreams; others in chains.
Yet the end waits for all—
Healing like a long exhale,
Forgiveness intimate, secret,
A kaleidoscope settled into stillness.

We the nobodies, shadows cut from the cloth of smoke and scars,
a fever of sweat and darkness pooling, tears of sorrow swallowing tomorrow.
They locked us in silence, mad minds forging new words, wild and sharp,
each syllable slipping from sanity’s grip, each sound a breath clawing free.

Everything slides in time, the tick-tock mocking us, echoes like footsteps
down the hallway of closed doors, promises that never open.
See you on the other side, they said, where death waits like a lover,
the kiss of a fist, sweet baby girl, sleep—don’t listen,
we’ll wait before sharing the truth, its teeth bare and grinning.

The mania whispers in dark corners, shakes the bones from rest,
and a thousand thoughts slice through, a razor storm beneath quiet skin.
Blood seeping down thick thighs, warmth trickling like proof—
still alive, still fertile with fear, birthing only dread.

He could never hear her, she screamed into an endless void,
her voice a smear, red stains across cold walls.
And no peace wrapped her, no quiet settled in,
only the whisper of madness, and the promise—
of a darker dawn to come.

The drugs made his tongue slippery, a snake
shivering white powder, unashamed—
a quick snort from his hand, lips cracked,
peeling his smile back, his gaze drifts, blank
as walls of thick paint, deep hues curdling,
slicked, psychedelic strokes, in seizure.

A strobe cuts, slicing the crowd like a blade—
tighter they press, all touch, no tether;
hungry, he dives, a greedy kiss melting
in muscle spasms, eyes flickering, his soul
undone, unheroed, a heart pounding
its own violence, swollen and caught.

To be happy, just to feel, a blind wish,
eyes of trust, of terror, masked alike,
shackled in seconds of breath, each beat
drawing closer, riding ******’s cruel peak
under dark, tidal waves of night, colliding,
picking locks through consciousness.

Beads of sweat thread bad habits together,
strung like a rosary for sinners unredeemed;
we are the murderers of our soft selves,
our punishment twisting like smoke.
In his hand, the medicine man’s prophecy
dissolves, as music stirs a ghost of meaning,

a scatter of memories, vague, severed,
each doubt echoing our bodies, our homes—
this flesh a lie wrapped in pulse and touch.
Reality shock-shatters, a flat line stretching
until silence is all: the strobe dies
and he fades, release breaking him free.

In the ocean of thoughts here, i drown.
I'm just finding out that i have fallen down.
Just seeing that this world is a party of costumes.
Opened my eyes late to see that i am at my dooms.
O me O life why can't it be beared?
I feel like too much needs to be said.

A place were no sun shines,
It sends shivers done our spines,

But the "humans" here,
They dont live in fear.

Faces, a happy smile
While doing things so scary and vile.

I think i hear a whisper too,
Thats when the smile grew,

The dread it came to win,
It began to consume my sin,

I fall to my knee,
I am finally free,

The mind goes blank and back to full,
Suddenly i feel a pull,

The others they want me to see,
I quickly turned to agree,

They showed me the new world,
Everything was kinda curled,

Spirals began to form,
A feeling really warm,

I looked down and saw,
Blood dripping from my jaw,

Thats when i decided to write,
My fingers going all white,

It felt like chalk,
But the lines where red,
I could not talk,
Wanted to shed,

I scratch my skin to get out,
The blood it was about to sprout,

Everything went black after that
And now its death that spread