If all were either black or white,
If grey areas there were none;
If all were either wrong or right,
One or the other, no question,
Would it be either good or bad?
Would it be a blessing or curse?
Would it make us happy or sad?
Would we be better off or worse?

Me:
Is it all my fault?
The way I feel?


Monsters:
Of course, you are sensitive, stupid, and naive.
You are making it worse and worse.
It's all your fault. Every last bit.

By Arcassin Burnham

You could have been everything and anything I was always dreaming
Of but that stubborn attitude had it all misconstrued in so many ways that
I couldn't think,
When life was already bad enough , you just seemed to make it worse,
I think you were on the verge of meeting you another,
When I loved you first  , Adored you first , you were my first,

I Hate you even more everyday when your birthday comes, and as you
Smile and kiss another man , I hope your day comes,
When you finally realize that love will stab you in the back,
Everything you do to someone, it comes back, so remember that,
I'm glad I'm not there to tell you that,
I use to think of you as someone I came to when I got bullied,
You used me for all I was, you really thought you knew me.

and the more she looked
the closer she        stood
to the                                  edge
of that                                    cliff
where she'd stay
the army of those who won't look dead in the eye
marched onwards as her confidence continued to decay
like crumbling walls and bro
-ken fences
her mind
those thousands of uneasy neurons
remained present till the last warm soft
                                                     drop
spilled out onto the rocky ground
and every glance in the mirror
took from her a lifetime

Dear Sister, you chose to leave.
You let me grieve upon loss.
You let me put myself last and yourself first.
You let me worry when I shouldn't.
You let me cry for you.
You let me get angry.
You let me feel pain.
You let me feel anxious.
You let.. you didn't let me do anything.
I chose to be the one to do that for you. To feel that with you.
You decided to take that for granted, and for that.. I owe you nothing.
I don't owe you a place to stay.
I don't owe you my love.
I don't owe you kindness.
I don't owe you anything.
Nobody owes you their time of day.
Nobody owes you the physical items you hold in your hand.
So why go around treating everyone like dirt?
To make the people that care about you suffer.
If it's to make yourself feel better, then I hope you feel worse.

It is strange. Life is strange.

To think that you are this person.
This amazing, gifted person.
That you are able to see the light through darkness.
That you are able to see stars when the clouds have wrecked their havoc upon this ground.

The belief that you are something more.
The belief that your pieces create more than just a pretty picture.

But in reality you're not.

Because all you ever were was sorry.

And it's still not good enough.