Your face won’t stay still long enough for me to identify it;
Though I know exactly who’s staring at me through all this.
Images rush through my brain like adrenaline pumping.
Before I know it things speed up to slow motion.
Everything’s frozen; and my exasperated voice is stifled.
I’m screaming and shouting that I’m slowly dying
But with a smile stitched onto my face you don’t understand.
People don’t see my days spent crying to my creator,
Asking him either to end this torment; or me.
Wait; let’s cheer up the mood, and go on a wild ride with my emotions
Make me fall in love with you and laugh while I beg.
Because whores who grovel in the dirt are hilarious to watch,
But on the other side it’s all bloody arms and tear-drenched faces,
Cigarettes lit with broken matches, and 4 pound vodka bottles.
What’s the point? These words are fickle. No one ever listens.
Teachers aren’t bothered with my self conscious fears.
And don’t even try to see through my glassy exterior.
They don’t ask about my arms patterned with scars.
Intoxicants are my easy escape from the hell of reality.
Memories don’t fit with emotions; they are broken and disconnected.
Even moments spent kissing are bland and uninteresting,
They’re only memories of the life lived,
Now I am a simple shadow of the person in those scenes.
The sun’s coming out; and my shadow’s slowly fading.