I don't know what to write
I'm tired
Of everything
They say I look so happy
I'm tired
Little do they know
I've trained my appearance
To be the opposite of my
Mind and my soul
I'm tired
You look happy
Well darling the answer is simple
There is a war going on inside of me

I am a camera
looking through my film--
faces roll past

embedded in the ink
of time
rolling

rolling

You could never feel my story.
Every word written in between the lines.
Scrawled in the deepest shades of my morality.

I'll hand you a box, full of my darkness.

It'll be years before you realize, this was a gift, to understand my story.

I lie in an empty bed in an empty room.
A chasm of words beneath me, screaming out.
The silence subsided from the ebb and flow of my thoughts.
My bitter thoughts.