It's not like there was anything I could do.
Crying at their feet and begging for mercy would've left me more wounded then the days and months that had passed.
It's not like she would ever change.
She threw her life away to the countless days sitting in the bathroom with alcohol electrifying her veins,
turning her into the mother that I never used to know.
It's not like he actually tried anymore or understood.
He had me running in a pool of water expecting me to keep my head above the surface because he was too fed up to help me.
It's not like they even noticed.
That I was still a kid.
That as soon as my siblings beside me grew older and wiser,
I was expected to do just the same.
To maintain their level of intelligence and work.
It's not like it mattered that I was 14 when they got tired of raising me.
Of teaching me the ropes.
It's not like I was tired of holding up the weight on my shoulders,
maintaing my first job at 15.
It's not like I was fed up with their constant bickering and nagging at each other.
It's not like I didn't notice that he started looking at other women because she wasn't good enough.
Its not like she was good at hiding her misery behind those eyes that looked shattered and fragmented like pieces of a broken heart.
It's not like she wasn't a mother anymore.
It's like he wasn't a father anymore.
It's not like that at all.

Just Tell Me-
"I will get away with you. I don't care about the lengths i'll have to run; I will make sure that I am with you."
                Just Tell Me-
                "This world is messed up. Everything in it; everything around it. Then I look at you and it all make sense: None of that matters."
                                  Just Tell Me-
                                 "I know you're afraid. I know you have been alone. Well just look up into my eyes. I promise you all of that will go away.
                                                                                               Just Tell Me-
                                                                                "It will be just you and me."

He hurt you.
                                   She broke you.
          They left you standing in the rain-
                                                            in undivided pain.


Story Of My Life.

She wasn't good enough.
Everyone lied to her, said she was okay.
She thought that she could prove them greater...
that she was better than they perceived.

Day and night,
days to months,
she worked.
Through the pain and the exhaustion,
she tried.

The lies kept coming
and she fathomed their intention.

They didn't want to shut down her dreams.
All in the while, they were the ones
who killed that fire inside of her
all along.

Tuesday night,
she laid in bed and cried.

Until her nose was throbbing.
Until her breaths were cut short of oxygen.
Until she couldn't repress anymore.
Until the dream inside of her
went to bed.

Once it all left her body,
She rested her head on the pillow.
Face- emotionless.
Heart- emotionless.
Mind-Emotionless.

Life- Dreamless.

Its like a forest,
this life, that is.
It goes on and on.
It all looks the same.
No matter where you go,
you'll be lost
if you don't know exactly where your heading.

Now imagine this.
A forest full of black trees.
A black sky.
Black ground.
But on that very ground is where you stand,
looking before you, the only white tree that seems to exist.

You stand there.
Just looking, afraid to take your eyes off off it.
Hesitant to run away, fearing that when you come back
-of if you can even find your way back-
it will be gone.

Night begins to turn up day
as you continue to linger to this tree.
The sun begins to shine,
giving an enchanting glow
to the beautiful creation in front of your eyes.

You can't help but stay.
And the thought that runs through your mind
is that this tree isn't just a masterpiece of mother nature,
its hope.

It's been a long time, hasn't it?
Since you actually let the past
actually sink in on you.
Since you let it come down
to salt streaks down your cheeks.
All you want to do is go back;
back in time.
To when you felt like,
you.


You want to roam the halls of the past.
To see what was left behind.
To see all the broken pieces.
The broken pieces of what could of been.
The broken pieces of your heart.


The doors of reliving barred you in.
You fight and fight,
but it's never good enough.
Because your young and a fool.
The present is all you have,
so make the most if it.


Memory Lane,
is nothing but an old ragged road.
It leads to nowhere but the past.
Don't be the coward that goes back.
You'll find nothing but simply,
memories.