Sadly a new day has closed
Maybe an old one shall open
Door stoppers break legs
And fresh faces always fade
 
Breathtaking plunges
Harsh lunges
Take it away
Bring it in
Switch the brakes
Fix the gear.
 
I wish yesterday was tomorrow
So I could be a psychic
Don’t you wish you had your way?
Don’t you wish you knew what was behind door number 2?
 
Stop crying
Be human and fight the dragons
Keep swimming to the finish line
Don’t hold me back with your fears
Just stay afloat.
Just stay afloat
Afloat
Afloat.
If you drown you’ll be gone
Don’t drown
Just stay afloat
Afloat
 
Just stay afloat.
Keep breathing for me they say.
For you.
What about me?
 
Shouldn’t I
No let’s not finish that sentence, it’s too gruesome.
It’s too sad.
 
 The words I use do not have the same meaning
As they would for everyone else
Only I understand.
No one cares to care.
 
See? That doesn’t exactly mean what it means.
Stop being a surface feeder.
Hypocritical words
 
 Catch a feeling
Throw a fit
 

Those sad faces of humanity trace the outline of earth tainted with lost poison, half a land filled with disdain, sound proof walls to disprove the infiltration of rescue.

Help me help myself. I’m lost in this void of dust floating like the rest of life just running off with my happiness and achievements leaving me with the scorching part gripping my nerves. It’s like a shock of lava. My veins filling up with torture, oh just torch me now and end this misery I’m living in.
Each breath burns the living out of my throat as if I was drinking boiling water. HA! The heated poison of rejection kills my lungs. Draws out the truth and gets stuck on purpose, clinging to my life. Mine and mine alone, but yet it has taken a hold, grip, gripe, and snatch, snitch, dip in a pool of lemons and ice, but no relief for the hate. I hate that they love to hate me. I hate how they pretend to care.

​I hate how they’re supposed to care, but they don’t.

IF LOVE WAS A CRIME
He’s always watching.

I feel his eyes bearing into my secrets. The expression emitting from his pores: He is suspicious of me. I’m the person of interest. Each time is just a slight glance, a split second glimpse taking a piece of me to investigate. My every move is under scrutiny. He barely speaks. Barely interacts. But.

Always. Watching. ME.

I feel- I am exposed. Strapped to an examination table. Secrets written in silver pouring out of my skin under his watchful care. He wants me to think I’m crazy, but I’m not. I know what I know. He’s subtle. Handsomely subtle. I’m too alarmed to confront. Too intrigued by his inquiry. Maybe even flattered. For once, I am the suspect. Sometimes I think he knows, but won’t say anything. Every time my presence is made, his silence is donned. I don’t know what this is, unless someone has whispered my name into the swirls of his ear. Unless a certain someone has hired him to tail me.

But there’s they don’t know.

​I’m a black widow with many webs, intricately designed to thwart wanderers like you. My poison injected into your veins will dry out your ambition.
So go ahead Detective Comics, try and catch me.