How do I help others,
Cant help myself,
Why do I see angels
When I am the demon?
All my questions unanswered.
Alone
Who am I?
This demon
Son of demons, grandchild of angels,
How do I protect the ones I hurt?
Hurt the ones I protect?
Personality fluid, not set in stone
Am I nothing?
Yet I am everything?
I am not human,
I am human,
I am evil
I am good
Why?

If only the roses would stay the year,
the thorns would leave,
if only the sky could stay this shade of pink,
the clouds keep at bay,
if we could stay like this forever,
in our arms I feel safe,
if only these songs I want to write would turn themselves into hits,
all this and here I sit,
is my life just an if only,
something I made up in my mind
while my mental health declines?
if only my friends would think more of themselves,
then I wouldn't have to worry so much,
if only the sad songs I like would make me feel better,
and I could express how I feel
but all these if only's are just figments
of a broken imagination,
why am i drawn to hurt like a moth to a candle,
as I'm drawn closer not afraid to burst into flame,
if only it could end sooner,
if only I didn't have to worry,
but I cant stop now,
I have to help the ones I love
if only they could stop their hurts,
if only people could understand that we hurt
and just don't want the people we care about dig their own grave
if only I could stop writing these hard words,
if only I could write in one style,
that wasn't hard to read,
I'm sorry,
if only you could help.

Oh Katniss, will you let Peeta give you that kiss?
Its an experience that you may miss,
you shoot your bow, and follow the waters flow,
but will you really find what you need?
like the others who died to greed,
taking lives like gold,
is it getting old?
The capitol has you in their clutches,
Peeta can bring out the blushes,
Haymitch knows his secret, you told him to beat it,
this game of love and war is full of pain.
what do you have to gain?
your life of regret at the end?
that you left him as a friend?
maybe for the best,
for there are sequels, who knows what happens in the rest.

those lives i know,
do they know me back?
those people i befriended,
do they talk behind my back?
is my life the lie people tell me its not?
would people be sad if i moved?
would they notice if i disappeared?
can i waste any more time with questions that have no answer?
or am i really lost to the depths of my mind,
and if thats what happened,
do i even know me?

Upon few gracefully treaded hilltops,
certain schoolboys on dreary rooftops roam,
looking upon a city filled with shops.
Searching through back alleyways for his home,
one stands alone in darkness tall and straight.
Wishing his dismal life was spent with others,
thinking how he rolled life's corrupted eight,
abandoned never seen his mother's
face, he taught himself everything he knows
sits in silence he never learned to cry.
the times that he tries to quietly doze,
he hears the shots and wakes, afraid to die.
smiles a mask for those around him to see
nobody sees us, our masks are our plea.

Its encroaching,
I see my shadow approaching,
Stalking through the day,
Waiting for night to strike,
Silent screams pierce the night,
Those taken by the dark waiting for help never coming,
They're in the dark,
Unseen by those who search,
Unheard by those who who listen,
The hopes crushed by the weight of the world,
For its resting on the shoulders of the weak,
And those who are strong should try to listen,
For the silent screams in the dark.