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Im so scared these thoughts won't end theres no end to the drive of my demise the only thing constant in my ever changing world the only thing thats caught me in a trust exercise I never wanted to do. What happens if I just wake up one day knowing im going to do it once I see the sunset one final time I close my eyes for a sleep long awaited

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look in my window In the pane of glass cracked open enough for three small fingers Frozen that way from the relentless making of our mothers blanket Held within the grasp of the monotoned greatness

To lift a cat is the same to open my inner mind the jumbled litter of thoughts too fast for comprehension to catch Judge my walls and my choice of coverings I sorrowfully retire to when its all said and done

just so the recurrent nightmares of a days dream can replay in my warm solitude piecing together scenes that were meant to be my home inside my home will call to you begging your forgiveness wishing from a lonely tower That you would notice me once more

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From what skin do I have to cover you from the chill When do the words of an empty promise fulfill its duty How far are you willing to take a corpse so desolate-looking, Yet so hard to lift from the thick fog that once clouded their mind? knocking on the front door of misfortune When the invitation to a feast is just the other way How would you plead to the jury your guilt convincing them of your own devilish nature just to prove a point. what keeps the guest from a fate foretold

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Soften my heart find your way in the crevices even I do not know about Sing the melody one might find in the glimmer of hope after a long war The song of comfort a mother might hum to her sleeping kin stretch my hopes further as you have the lifeline of my heart And I promise I'll do my best to sing along My heart is fragile only for you just for your song to further engrave itself inside

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of course only the cries of a heart reaches and makes something worth while. why wouldn't it be so easy? uncomfortably, I'll will my heart into your hands tighten your grip on it with all your strength puncture depressions into the muscle of my being let it rot in the warm air and turn to sour for my heart you can do with as you please for my blood you can do with as you please the red in my cheeks flow only from you and in its return to my inner mind My spoken words are yours as well

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All it takes to make me cry. To hate myself. is the simple disgusted or unimpressed tone of my mother. she doesn't need to say anything, for all the words that could be said after it; comes from my own inner monologue. I am simply not good enough, not smart enough, not anything enough for my mother. because what she deserves is the best. this woman can wholeheartedly rip out my insides while still being the person I treasure most in this world. I despise her but love her with my being. because of her, I am a being. how disgusting is it to resent the person who brought you into this world?

I am nothing because of her But because of her I am not nothing

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Suddenly, when I finally get to the keyboard that'll allow me some relief of taking the burden of my thoughts away from my head.

I blank, nothing comes. I can't magically conjure up a single thought that would ever let any other living soul know that I am in pain. that i am burning from within and I can't scream to let anyone know.