Feeling worthless is a popular trend
these days, it's hard to tell.
Who is your friend
and who is your foe.
Trying to turn the other cheek
is proving to be one of the hardest things,
I've ever done.

My faith in you
is dissipating.
Like boiling water
disappearing into steam.
No, this isn't a dream.
The truth isn't always kind.
Kind of like you.

I felt your envious eyes,
whisper tales of my true rank in life.
Untouchable, the dirt you wouldn't
grace your spit with.

A well fabricated quilt of lies.
To smother my heart and hold it
captive in the fires.
Of pure narcissism and self hatred.
Long after you left me here.

May our souls both find their peace.
Respectfully and may our hearts as dark and broken as they may be.
Mend themselves in the warmth, love and truth of the Sun once more.

A moment of peace
in between the battles.
Of my heart and mind.

Is as common as a
four leaf clover.
A rare occasion.
A holiday for my heart.

To forget the war it's losing.

No matter how many miles separate us.
If you never speak to me again.

At least, I can take comfort in knowing
that when you've had your fill.
Faith lost, hope vanished from your heart
without a trace.
I know,
you'll look to the stars.
Only to see tens of thousands of them;
shinning brightly on the darkest nights.
Just for you.

And if this life is just meant to be a realm of torture.
A realm of apathy and discontent.
I find peace within my heart knowing
I'll be looking at the same sky, too.

Lost within the fear.
One too many times now.
I can feel my heart slowly,
breaking into a million shattered dreams.
In between irratic palpitations and bursts of nervous energy.
Of course.

I think my soul is ascending to its purest form.
It's both terrifying and beautiful.
Almost like I'm dying and living simultaneously.

My brain is a factory,
producing every toxic part of me.
******* until my hand gets lazy,
fantasizing about Lexi Belle
and being Martin Scorsese.

My blood is a vacuum,
alone in a crowded room;
my white blood cells like to
travel to my *****,
so I can someday infect
designer uterine walls.

Locked and loaded,
my heart exploded.
The tissue and issues
attracted crocodiles
that swam from the mall,
for miles and miles.

Store-bought baby, my body isn't ready,
to be stripped down to the bone,
and sold to teenage radios,
that'll broadcast my American moans.

Caucasian nightmare:
my skin is not fair.
Peel enough off with chemicals,
until I decide there's no more,
and hide the layers in bathroom stalls,
located in the bleach of Baltimore.

Channeling demons against my will.
My body, used.
Seen nothing more than a flesh ouija board.
In your game of self reassurance.
I'm not the conduit, you wanted me to be.
My eye's just as open as yours.
Stop telling me otherwise.

One day, I pray
I'll break free from these chains.
To run far away.

Fast, like the Devil's
following me.
And as his hand grasps my collar,
I'll fall back into your arms again.

If you were here
and they were gone.
My hearts bleeding there too.