Soul searching, sins cleansing
Oh hey karma!
Round the corner
Knock knock, who's there?
The boy who cried wolf
Half human half cunning
Gone, she said

For every past is a memory
Golden moments, learnt lesson
Hint of gladness but clouds of misery
Is it a dream or am I haunted?
Sun sets and sun rises
A new day out and in the night sky
Laying in bed
For every conversation
Every cross junctions and new people
I ask, am I haunted by you?
I could hold an eraser
Past is past, present is now
As I type....and hit delete
It stills linger
To work ahead it still has to be said

To whom it may concern,

I am fragile. I will pretend I'm okay when really my shoulders are collapsing under the weight of the heavy universe I do not feel a part of.

To whom it may concern,

I am tired. I have been running from things I dare not face since monsters began appearing under my bed and now all I'm left with are mirrors. I would rather join the monsters under my bed.

To whom it may concern,

I guess you could say I'm running from myself. Maybe I am. All I know is that the reason I hear my heartbeat so clearly is because my chest is hollow and I push people away for fun, like they're the dinner table I'm sat at and now I'm full.

To whom it may concern,

My name is Victoria, the meaning of Victoria is victory but the only thing I've been victorious at is ripping my own soul until it bleeds black. I've been trying to dye it red from the blood of others but colour fades and I'm tired.

To whom it may concern,

I am made up of layers, some are impenetrable by choice and some are just hanging under my fingernails. I can't seem to get them clean.

To whom it may concern,

I am a riddle, to some, I am a muse. For me, I am trying.

I dwell alone here,
a prisoner within
my own mind and life,
encumbered in burdensome
shackles of my own invention,
locked restraints of self-delusion
to which solely I possess the keys.