A hollowness where life once grew,
now I have a barren soul.

No flowers bloom here anymore,
the colours are all gone.

but i feel the thorns twisting in my gut
and the weeds thriving in my chest.

They multiply into a wasteland,
where nothing but monsters dwell.

You put your hand there,
Right around my heart,
And wrapped it in string
So I would follow you wherever you went.

And I did, I followed.
I analyzed every glance,
Every dimpled half smirk,
Every message you ever sent.

You pulled me in closer with every word you said,
Every almost touch
And you held that string so tightly in your hand that I could feel it when it happened,
I could feel my heart burst.

In the moonlight,
I place my face on the cool hard wood floor,
in a futile attempt to feel grounded.

But my roots do not take easily
and I continue to wither,
awake on my bedroom floor.

it’s everything and nothing and a brain full of thoughts
when the exhaustion’s fills your bones and nothing you can say has any meaning
My lips stay shut
And my smile is fake
And my heart aches and aches and aches

The colours are dull,
the sounds muted.
I see lips moving but cannot comprehend the words.

In this void of my own,
the outside world is unclear and very far away.

i am not who i was before,

i am changed
i am distorted,
misshapen
skewed
marred.

yet my skin looks the same.

In my dreams I watch a girl be everything she ever wanted to be,

When I wake up I know that girl could never be me.

shame rips at my face the way you ripped at my clothes,
it was my choice to be there with you,
my voice that tumbled out consent,
but even in the moment I felt so far away.

It was meaningless, alcohol fueled and arbitary.
Is it society or my own ideals that make me feel this way?
That one drunken night with you, can undo all my progress
and send me spiralling back into this emptiness
that I know so well

I don't hate you, I dont like you either,
is that the point?
I hate myself, I hate that I had to scramble from your bed this morning with last nights makeup still muddied on my face,

I hate that the reflection in my mirror this morning cant accept who she's become.

I’m falling down again
I can feel my bones solidify into stone
My body feels heavy once more
This time is terrifying
I know what’s to come
This time I feel like screaming
This time I want to run

This feeling of listlessness, makes me want to sink my nails into my skin and claw it off.

It makes me want to rip my hair from its roots.

I need to get out,
I need my skeleton to split the seams of this flesh
and I need it to run.
I need to run.

Diaries of youth are disected,
pulled apart by quivering fingers,
in a sorry attempt for answers,
where did it begin?
how did i become this vortex of twisted knots
and broken dreams?

Some kind of day this has become
If only I could spontaneously combust,
Like a star in the night sky
Burning bright in one final blaze of glory
Before it’s all gone
Spontaneous human combustion,
The headline would read.
How marvelous that would be.

The phyrigian lion couldn’t save me now
Nor the man on the moon with all his stars
Or the imps that play havoc at night
Please hold my hand, hold it tight through this madness and chaos.
Because the hatter laughs in my dreams and the mermaids aren’t as they seam
With snarling fangs as sharp as the Wolves that pounce through my synapses the phyrigian lion couldn’t save me now
Nor all the stars pierced to the inside of my eyelids

Cradle me in your collar bone
Let me curl up and live there,
Beneath the shadow of your jaw,
In the crook of your neck.

I’ve lost sleep over that collar bone,
And I’ll lose sleep again
Until I’m yours.

You smile and I feel that thrill
And then I feel sick.
I can’t like you, I can’t give in,
Because you don’t like me back.

Is it the attention I find flattering?
Is that why I’m drawn so far in?
Or is it the curls in your hair?
And the silly way you animatedly talk about nothing.

It hurts because you love her
And because she loves you back

But when you smile I feel that thrill,
The idea of what might be fills my head
and hours are spent on futile dreams and
senseless dread

Growing up for me hasn’t been about maturing or becoming wise
It’s about becoming desensitized
And disengaged
It’s about losing my idealism and accepting my lot
I may have been an emotional wreck when I was teenager
But at least I knew how to feel
At least then I didn’t give up