I dug into my chest, extracted my heart, and handed it to you ****** and beating.
Painfully adoring you while time keeps repeating.
                            
Now I'm struggling to repair my skeletons bones.
Each dislocation is detrimental to the structure I up hold.        

Viens once full of life and lust, scarlet fluid feeding my soul.          
I offered up my organs to you, now behind my ribs lays a hole.  
                                                            
Feverishly panicking as now I suffer a glitch.
I will rip out any piece of me if it alows your body to fix.

I want to live in a world of fantasy
So please repel reality away from me,
To see what I want,
Then desire what I see.
Lets universally share this dream
    
I live in a world of growing poverty  
Worthless horizons shadow over me,
Blind to the truth,  
Decived by beliefs.
Each sign of hope our nation steals.
                                                  
We live in a world of faceless thieves
Coltural races splitting at the seams,
Burried in our debts,
money's growing on our trees.
Humanities corrupt a world of back handed deals.

People expect desperation of shattered love to happen at 4:00am on a lonely Tuesday.
Wanting. Waiting.
Tears sheding from the soul landing into the pitted darkness of  emptiness on your pillow.
Or would that would be a romantic paradise.                                                           
And then there are people who expect desperation of shattered love to be only when your heart shakes with weakening knees.
Craving. Chasing.
Anxiously pacing, ears awake for the defining ring that your silence ridden phone will never obtain.
Or would that be a romantic paradise.

And then there is a real desperation of shattered love which is unexpected at midday's most peaceful.
Smiling. Surprising.
But then realising that the hole in your heart is bleeding their name and so suddenly you dont know what to do with your head.
Maybe that is romance in its finest paradise.

She wore weeds in her hair but I know flowers blossom in her heart, A designer of a season catastrophe always waiting for the weather to start.    

She walks like rain and smiles like summer, purity and tragedy desperate to be discovered.    
                                                              
A face as captivating as a crescent moon half foolishly covered by the dark, she has a universe of breezy thoughts compressed into the seeds of her heart.

As the snow descends like the rain and rouged leaves once did, this young girl forgets herself and springs sweet innocence is hid.

A soul so full of kindness one who dreams without a reason, well it turns out this youthful girl was destroyed by the seasons.

Absence makes the heart go insane,
At 3:17 on a Friday morning the darkness smothers me in pain.

I hold heavy thoughts and my mascara stained sheets, 
Endless what ifs and true foolishness meets.

Clutching my head tears blurring the shapes I can see,
I sit up and discover the only person here is me.

It's just me who understands and just me who hears me cry,
This pattern of realisation is to consistent to deny.

When you tell me I'm not alone your words must be false,
You're not the one engulfed in sadness with an Absence in their pulse.

You keep telling me I'm not alone but when I can't hear his breath,
I'm abandoned,forgotten,living in dark loneliness.

My demons don’t scare me anymore she whispered with a broken smile.
It was the first time I heard hope escape her lips, shame it only lasted a short while.
She said it frustrates her that she has words inside her head I will never get to hear.
But behind her faceless skin was a story that didn’t appear.

It’s a pity watching someone harm themselves until their body can’t be stitched.
Tears spilled out her sorrowful eyes as she wished our lives were switched.
She stood as nothing more than a suffering girl consumed by a tragic illness.
Hope for recovery was as likely as silence hiding from this stillness.

She knew it herself but hated admitting that her mind was slipping apart.
Although she once was a beautiful girl that side only existed in her heart.
If only she didn’t like her bones and didn’t idolize to be thinner.
Then her cheeks would be filled with colour and not a taste of last night’s dinner.
My
And she is so much more to me than this poor girl who lost her way.
But her past life seems to get trapped between her lungs and mouth each day.
It’s such a shame that a reassuring light took me and sadly missed her.
And I never feel so much pain inside until I look at my anorexic sister.

Lift your head up princess your crown is falling down.
Dust the cobwebs off your dress and wear it like a gown.
Can you think who you were before the world said how to be?
Because that mascara running down your face doesn’t look royal to me.

Wipe off that smeared lipstick and replace it with a rosy smile.
To me it seems years ago since hope possessed you for a while.
That crown you wear upon your head is the perfect reflection of you.
You are superior to society believing it is your choice too.

Don’t judge yourself by your past you don’t live there anymore.
Take a leap build your wings and let your spirit roar.
Turn your face to the sun and let your shadows fall behind you.
The dark can no longer influence attitude or change what you do.

Keep your chin up sweetheart and let your voice be heard.
Be the princess of yourself and it will project to the world.
Take a wish on your dreams of which you shake from your hair.
As long as you respect yourself now, nobody else should care.