It's me who should know better
It's me who should make the sacrifice
It's me who should be strong
when others won't.

for what?

When did I get so used to
burn every inch of myself out
for acception and love
that no one grants me?

for what?

It's me who knows better
It's me who makes the sacrifice
It's me who is strong
as it's the only choice

for what?

When did it get so hard not to
wear everything on my sleeve
as opposed to hide them so
I won't be noticed?

for what?

It's me who is the fool
It's me who is the attention-seeker
It's me who is the weakling
still painfully invisible.

no reason, no consequence
no beginning, no end

after all, I'm the girl who can't hurt herself
who can't heal herself
who can neither exist nor perish.
It's me who is the utmost liar

no savior, no captor
no one, no one, no one.

Hideous
gruesomely frightening
I wear this mask,
the devil that I am

self absorbed
and inhumanly cold..

my angry howls do not falter
but you are there,
an image of innocence
upon your face..

the walls break and they crumble

due to the pressure..

of my untamed fists
and fiery depression,
whereas my tears
are the cause

for this disfigured flesh..

my shadows draw you near
my chains enslave you,
struggle as you might..

break apart thoroughly

until you are nothing more than a doll
with black voids for eyes..

kneel before me,
submit your entirety

however..

do not plead
for I will not remove my mask,
and accept a being
so utterly angelic as you are.

Could have been a masterpiece,
Could have been eye-opening,
a breath of fresh air.

Endless possiblities.

Could have been coloured and fiery,
Could have been subtle and graceful,
the result of years of perfection.

Endless possiblities.

Could have been all,
Like an empty canvas I was born as.
But I have been me.

The canvas is stained
tainted
spoiled

The canvas is stained forevermore.

The game stops being fun,
When you spend a night full-throttle,
And can't remember if your headache's,
from a needle or a bottle.
The game stops being cool,
When you throw up in your yard,
When you look inside your mirror,
And behind your eye's you're scarred.
The game stops being fine,
When you start to fear a hug,
Because you almost check their pockets,
For some money, for some drugs.
The game comes to an end,
When you realize what you are,
When you give in to your urges,
And you OD in your car.

i have
no qualms
with people who
love themselves

my pause after the
“i know”
that follows my compliment
is not distaste,

rather, i have spent
so long
hating myself that
i am used to self deprecation.

i have only just
come to grips
with learning to
love myself

self confidence in you
is beautiful
but also, for now,
startling

I feel Empty

whatever i see

there's nothing

there's a hate

and i dislike it

whatever it is

it's a humilation

and i cant get rid of it

because of bad things around me

and it was so imperfect

that i can't take it off

it sticked to my head like a glue

i have no ******* clue

what was about to happen

My Eyes have burned

like i'm in hell

Whatever i wish they die

In that Maggot-filled well