starbunny54

It is a shroud of black velvet. It is the violent ocean in the dead of night. It is the monster in the shadows; the Vashta Nerada. It is the final crash of symbols in Carmina Burana. It is impossible to lift. it is impossible to breathe. It is impossible to see. It is the only thing that can be heard. It is why the stars disappear at night. It is why every light drifts by without stopping. It is why the gnawing starts and never ceases. It is why nothing else matters in the end. It is my disease. It is my disability. It is my misfortune. It is my death sentence.

I cut myself and watch it bleed, I feel the rush inside of me, I don't cause I'm stupid, or I'm ignored, I do it because I'm kinda bored, Running down, the bloods so great, How did I ever get to this state? I know its wrong, that I should fight, then why the hell does it feel so right? Why can't I stop, how can this be, that I cut myself were no one can see, no cries for help, don't want to be found, but walking around my blood stains the ground, I need help, I know I do, I hidwe in the dark, won't come through, And so, unfinished this poem shall go, because, what happens next you never shall know. -Mikki

Lay down your right to be human. Put on a dazzling smile so that no one can see your pain. You hide it all so well, but underneath your shirt you can still feel the scars. No one knows what it is like to be you. Your smile is but one in a billion, A mask that you wear to ward off the questions. Your scars are your war paint, But this is a losing battle. You are sent to face the demons all alone, though they will never leave your side. So keep that pretty smile steady, And don't let one tear drop from those stormy eyes. Put on your war paint and go out into the world, where your smile makes you just like them.