Only her scarce trust
She saves and is stingy with
Freely spending time

Don’t look at me with his **** in your throat
I don’t have the heart to see the joy in your eyes
While you guzzle down greed's breed seed.

Don’t moan at me with his **** in your ***
I don’t have the heart to see the pain in your eyes
While coal miners ******* into submission.

Don't cry to me when you inevitably ****** him
I don't have the heart to see you regret your life
While you beat, burn, bury, and drown mankind.

I am such an open book
I am the same around humans
in church, in school, even in the hospital
I never change how I express myself
Because I am an open book, people take this an opportunity to ignore and obstruct themselves from the the deep and mysterious me.
They never want to go near the boundaries that separates and defines the real me.
Immediately they see the open book, they are satisfied
And then they mistake me as someone with a good life
little do you know about what I face in the dark
The place where trouble of peace lies.
It is so peaceful that I am so troubled
I break into tears because I know something is wrong
Is this a dream or something worse
I know something worse than a dream.....
                       Reality
I have to go back there and be the open book that is easy to read
The smart girl who always whines and argue
I don't want to go back to that
I just want to stay like this,
as that girl who always think and meditates about deep things.
But I have to return to my daily duty
the role I am good at being a rook.
being an open book.

I
am
******

and not in a clawing flesh, body convulsing, banging headboard kind of way

that kind of ****** I can rock the **** out of.

No
I am more the
twisted mess of forced misconception
enlightened by time innocence forgot
forced into a life guided by trust in the lies truth told

Yeah,
it's the end of life as I know it
that's the kind of ****** I am

I knew joy
it was based on trust in what was true

I knew love
it was built on that same foundation

So yes,
I am ******
this mess of **** crumbling to pebbles while blinding me in the dust of my own ignorance
is anything but blissful

and all I hear are the cries of beautiful dying
not that dying is beautiful, though it can be
but of the death of beautiful things
of things I found implicitly lovely
the painful dying of all I believed was good

I am so ****** sideways

protected by others
I can no longer say for certain who I am
or who I believe myself to be

****** hard and unrecognizable
***** into truth by the kindness of others

No more questions because I am ****** that way too
no one wants to hear their old news and ***** laundry

I knew love once
now all I love, I question
reliving my choices in reasons why
trying to piece together my life had I always known
trying to define how I love by my own definitions
and not by what I knew love to be
because that love never existed
only in my ******, shattered memory

So, hey
guess what
I used to love you
now it's tainted with yesterday's **** streaks

I'm still me
But boy
am I ******