scars on the skin
a collection
I have more friends than I could ever know,
Yet none hold me
I have more friends than I could ever love,
Yet none can care
I have more friends than I could ever remember,
Yet none know me - the real me.
How can they know me,
I don't share
How can they know me,
I don't care
How can they know me,
I don't know – do I?
I don't like me,
How could I
I don't love me,
Why would I
I hate me,
You do too
Maybe I'm not meant to be happy. Maybe I'm meant to feel this much pain. It hurt, I always hurts, it keeps hurting. Feeling so strong, a curse under the highest power. I feel everything, they tell me I'm overreacting, they tell me I'm overthinking. They tell me to grow up. How can anyone grow up when it hurts so much. Why would anyone grow up when it hurts so much. To be rejected for being oneself it hurts. I just want it to stop hurting. I just want it to end. Please let me end it. I don't even know who I am. I never have not really not fully, I wouldn't even know who I was stopping to be. Maybe I'm meant to feel this pain, maybe it's all I'm good for.
This is how I die:
Not with a bang, not with a grand showdown.
Fading, fading away into obscurity.
My name, long since forgotten—this is how I die.
A remnant of a person, an empty shell,
Eaten away by the modern day.
Ready to rest, to rest eternal.
This is how I die:
Not with a bang, not even a whimper—
Just forgotten, cold, and alone.
this is how i die:
(just how they want it).
Skye
It's just a phase, that's what they say
It's just a phase, that's what they believe
They're right in a way,
We're all just a phase
It doesn't matter, in the scheme of it all
I don't matter,
you don't matter,
none of it matters
So why do we care, care as if your child
Why do we control, as if your possession
We oppress, for jealousy of others
We abuse, for a rush
We make others suffer, to lessen life
For it's just a phase,
This little life of mine
Let it be mine,
Or I'll make it mine
i carve my initials into my arm
not so you'll notice,
but so i'll remember:
i existed.
Choice
A funny thing
An illusion
A lie
Yet there's one
At this edge I find myself at,
The rumbling around me,
The only choice that's truly mine
Yet they'll choose for me,
If I offer them the chance
Quickly now, the rumbling louder
Silence that's all there is now
for better for worse
It was mine to make