We spend all of this time
searching our souls and
picking apart our brains
wondering how we fell so far
we look in the mirror to practice
our grins and blatant white lies
in an attempt to cover the dishonesty
behind the sentiment "i am perfectly fine"

I met a child
On a warm summers day
Who reminded me
How to laugh and to play
Round and around
The pool we would swim
Caving to our every whim
And in that child,
I found a spark
That breathed the life
Back into my broken heart

Dear Reader,
they say that life is loud.
That it's noise deafens us and dulls our senses.
that it is all just..... too much

But you see, dear reader, I... disagree
I think that life is absolutely quiet,
and I think that the silence bothers people.
Because, much to the disagreement of others,
silence is so terribly loud

within the quiet hides
all that we are,
all that we hope to be,
and all that we fear.
monsters thrive in the silence
because there is nothing to
drown them out
no escape.
Just you and your own mind.

I believe that Hell
is cold and quiet.
That it is like snow muffled steps
echoing in our souls forever.
The frigid silence is inescapable

It seeps into your very bones
and fills your head
until all you can hear
is the smooth cold laughter
of your demons
as they delight in your numb isolation

I believe that this hell
is already here
and it fills our lives

Think about it,
the world shattering
as the silence of your worthless life
echos through your core.

Yes,
it is the silence that frightens us.
The things that the silence reveals in our souls.
As it uncovers the monsters that lurk
in the dark shadows of the mirror before you.
It forces you to face
every flaw.

So please,
I beg of you,
scream with me.
cut me open
and bleed with me
so I can escape this all encompassing silence.

There once was a girl
Sitting all alone
Beside a grave
She wished
Was her own.

And as she shuddered
And gasped for breath
She realized
all she longed for

Was death.

“Silly girl”
Death said to me
“How can you exist
So selfishly?”

“For her to die
And you to live
Is the curse that
You deserve”

And as I lay there
In a pool
of blood
And tears
I realize the truth

It’s not my place

Not to live
And not to die
Not to give up
And not to try

It’s not my air to breathe
And yet who am I to deny
It’s not my food to eat
Yet how can I not?

How can I waste
What was hers to claim?
And how can I die
When she lays in my grave?

She didn’t deserve it
But I...
I do
And so I am forced
To consume her food.

It’s not my air to breathe
It’s not my place to greave
It’s not my food to consume
It’s not my life to remove

I’ve lost the will