Copyright Rebecca

How would you know I’m in pain
If you can not see it clear and plain
On my arm it sits and stares
All the pain my heart must bare
A drop of blood hits the floor
as my wrist gets cut and torn
I’m becoming numb
and from within a smile comes
and on the outside once again
I’m as happy as I once had been
On the inside I’m afraid
That I will always stay this way

My Disease

Copyright, Rebecca

Deep in the darkness of the eternal night I live,
There is no sleep for me here not even for a moment.
I’m wrapped up in the gloom of the coming storm,
Unable to move for lest I become unborn,
The dust around my astral form is moving,
But it does not grant me any peace or absolution,
My thoughts are broken in my mind again,
The shards of my memories cut me and cause me pain,
My heart is splintering in the shadows,
Everything that I have loved has faded away,
Piles of smoking ash is all that is left of my soul,
I have not the inclination now to try and make myself whole,
Shuddering in the corner of my suicidal cage,
I fear I have reached my final breaking point,
Reality has been thrown into distortion,
And I have torn down the sign that warns ‘Caution’
I have travelled along my long black road,
And the air has turned to smoke around me,
Still I keep on walking but I’m going nowhere,
I’m going in circles in my own personal nightmare,
My voice can no longer be heard by others,
They have discarded me and moved on with their own lives,
I’m pretending that I don’t care but that’s a lie,
Caught between two evils fearing to live and fearing to die,
The sun has melted down into acid beneath my feet,
The stars have all fallen and have outweighed the moon,
There is no light for me in this awful fantasy,
All the greatness has been stripped away from my reality,
Discerning lines have all blurred,
And pastel colours have grown stark,
I do not care for being pedantic,
But still I am carried away on a wave of semantics,
There is no peace in this meditative rage,
Filled with passive and obvious resistance,
I have forced myself to become emotionless,
But perhaps that has made me senseless?
Could this all be my own fault?
Have I dug my own wet and muddy grave?
I don’t know what I am anymore,
But for my disease… I know there is no cure


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