I’m so horrible, bad luck doesn’t want a part of me
The crows fly away with the sight of me,
Inscribed in their retinas
I have my own invisible scarlet letter
“S” is the letter
My name…
Blades of grass spear through my shadow
So long ago that girl of a shadow
My 5 o'clock shadow of words
Maybe my writing phase is over
I can’t wake up from a dream when it’s already over
Maybe my blue pen is done kissing the paper
If you were the paper and I was the pen, you’d think I was trying to murder you
I don’t know me, without you
Sometimes I miss my ink
I’m scared my drugs are going to be discontinued
I’m scared my happiness has been discontinued
I used it all up in attempt to hang onto it
Flowers blossoming beautifully to their death
Everything living to its death
Birds singing the song the reaper himself wrote
Words tattooed to my face,
My award losing poker face
Why can’t you see the sadness in my bright eyes?
My depression is the light
Everyone’s happiness is the light
People keep dragging me there
They think they’re helping
Don’t ask me what is helping
Always asking the awful reverse
They think they know what’s best
No one knows best
No not even me
If only they would listen-
And yet, too intently is not how to listen
They never do