Not one true

Just a guise  

Bid adieu  

To her flies



A self sentence,

Or so they said.

With no defense,

Dracula took her head.

I have never thought that feeling empty
could bring me happiness and relief
and I would have never said that I
would be laying, cold and alone in my bed
at 1AM on a Saturday night, believing
believing that the best is yet to come and
you've finally set me free by breaking me
because who will find a better piece of match
for my shattered body and soul, stuffed with cries
than my own hands, my own legs leading me the way

I've certainly written a scenario in my mind
and I've been rehearsing to play this part for too long
astonished, I've read it a thousand times
paying attention to everything but details
and oh, what a fool I've been promising myself
that I would once find the pattern in the stars
that had led me to you, broken and bruised
oh, what a fool I am not for reminding myself
I know my own self the best
having created the concept of my own existence
and passing it into your hands, without realising
that my own demons were always human
without a doubt crossing my path only to bring
the only things I've ever feared, but still
I find my heart more of a decoy than a perception
of all the events existing only n alternative universes
and yet I still manage to underestimate my experience
and keep re-opening the wounds, cutting deeper

why would I ever trust myself
when my own body wants to reach self destruction
putting me on the edge with every decision,
when did I lost the ability of longing to be my own
have I ever belonged to myself anyways?

A mirror reflects harsher words than I’ve ever heard,
Even if they’re slurred.

These words say they won’t grieve,
Won’t care if I leave.

I go after my veins looking to bleed
Maybe then I can be freed.

These voices continue to come in a flood-
Maybe I can escape with my blood.

I can hear them no matter how much I scream and shout
Maybe another sting will draw them out

Another sting and I’ll feel something else.
Maybe then I’ll feel my pulse.

Another sting and maybe it will mask the sting of my own words...

I reek of new living
the silence of sobriety is deafening
Can't stand my heart beating
Chest rising, finally breathing
Falling together at the seams for the lack of grieving

Jump out of my skin at the sound of my name
Hearing a whisper of enthusiasm scares my wandering brain
I am standoffish but I'm not timid nor meek
You say you're here for me but I'm not who I seemed
Am I better because of my brand new living?

No, I am not new in the least
I pretend in my imagination but I'm the same old me
Weak
Time to stop writing
Time to go to sleep

I destroyed the pretty.
It's all emptiness now, what do you expect? You can't expect me to trust you further! Why would you let me break?

I destroyed the pretty.
It's not the question if you trust me, it's the question if I still feel a needle in my arm. It's the question for love and pain; a heart attack in a field of broken Roses.
Why can't you break me further? I am done, and you took my lifesaving essence.

How may I feel betrayed today? If it wasn't you that destroyed, oh, but it was me.

I ruined the pretty, I destroy the last lovely, I broke it.
One was left, now two are shattered.

So give me pain,
pain to ban the feelings,
pain to ban my life decisions,
pain to ruin further what's already lost,
has always been meant to be lost.
God why does it hurt so bad?
It's not like heartbreak,
it hurts like betrayal
and it hurts like death.
The feeling of death, deeply sitting down, wearing me out like a broken glass of beauty.

I threw you down, Glasshouse
Pretty
Beauty
I destroyed the pretty all the beauty is what I took away.
Shattered on the glass wood floor.
Death crawls up my spine like a spider to its to be killed prey.

I can't hear you anymore, how could you???
How on this earth dare you???
You left me!
You let me break you.
Why would you want that?
Isn't one destroyed body enough?
Isn't my misery beautiful enough?

I did this to myself
and what hurts the most is that
I have no one else to blame

this world has somehow taught me
that everything is easier
when there's someone accountable
for every pain  

it's hard to let a corpse go  
without knowing who the murderer is
because isn't this how justice works;
played by the victim and the manace?

i hope you know
that i would give
everything
to make your hurt go away.

i wish
i could take it
and make it my own
so you wouldn't have to suffer it.

you're so great
you're ******* incredible
and i hate
that you suffer this.

i love every inch of you
and i wish
with all my ****** heart
that you did too.