Her crystal ball held his fears of the future,
for she painted over the scars of his past.

Her jaded eyes were in denial of the life before him.
Her hands held his ribcage like no one ever could.

Traced in black,
her locks
fell
against
his side,
hiding his secrets within her jaded eyes.

Lips seeping with his secrets,
she blew away his pain to the silver blade,
stabbed between roses as black as night.

Give me your naked soul.

There was a girl who became her dreams,
but her dreams were just nightmares in disguise.

The monsters crawled out of her head
and slept with her in bed.

She would scream and shout,
but there was no way out.

She listened to what the monsters said,
so her arms dripped red.

So she did all a little girl would,
she looked to a shooting star and wished that she could.

Lifting my head,
I look to those colors painting my reality.
They encapsulate me.

No longer am I          here,
I begin to fall
into the kaleidoscope.

Morphing into the plethora,
the substance of my being
d   i    s   s  i  p    a    t    e   s....

Nothingness becomes one
as everything
discon   nects.

Both in and out of my body,
the colors have taken ahold.
As they morph what's before me,
they paint pictures from within.

I'm taken out of my skin,
as I sink within.

I never knew
you thought of
me
as beautiful.

Til the night you played me
your scratched record.

It skipped
it was filled with d is sona nce
It had no consistency
but its consistency of cacophonies.

Others would have
thrown the record away,
unable to bear its e
rra
tic ways.
Others would have said it's Broken.
Unfixable.
A disaster.
Too much.

;

But you ,
you weren't like the others.
You did not want to throw away the scratched record;
you did not even want to take the scratched record to a repair shop,
for you ,
you somehow seemed to find
a harmony in the scratched record.

So you closed your eyes to the endless loop of the scratched record
and said It was the most beautiful song you've ever heard

Because to you,
The most beautiful
are the most broken.

Blood drips
from its quenched lips.

It depletes.
It defeats.

Though you may feel complete,
it will break you from beneath.

You may scream,
You may cry,
You may feel nothing inside,
But don't close your eyes.

It is a pervasive sense of grief,
but the only person who has died
is you,
and yet your corpse remains.

To him, I was beautiful,
To me, I am a beast.


In my eyes, he found the world,
yet my eyes were blind to all but the dark forests.

On his lips I could taste his spirit,
with none filling mine own.

In my hand, he found his,
yet I could feel nothing.

On his skin, I was painted as a rose,
ever wilting as my black heart faded from him.



To him, I was beautiful.
To me, he was beauty.
But who could ever learn to love a beautiful beast?

Take me whole and give life to my shattered soul.

Always is never,

and never is forever,

so never think that it will always be forever.

He was every color.

Put your honeyed mouth on my parched lips.

You're the half that makes me whole,


the one that completes my soul.

I was a candle, and you were the flame

Without you my light fades away.

I wish, I wish upon a star that you could see how beautiful you are.

You are the soul that makes mine whole.

I always fall in love with my distractions.

I was a candle, and you were the flame

With you, I fade away.

Past my skin,
nothing lies within.

~ The stories on his skin were painted from the pain within ~

Echo- his commands
Beware- his orders:

Don't!
Do not say no
trust in others,
Listen to me-
hateful things

You are.
not
To you
I am.
Not
to me.

Follow his commandments and incinerate in his hell.

They call it heartbreak
because when one falls in love,
two hearts fall into one.

His soul finds the lost one in me.