• Every thing is different. When I thought every thing was grounded again, it fell apart. Of coarse I am the one in it, hurting, wondering why. I don’t know how I always end up like this. Maybe trouble, heartache and I, are closer then we know.

    I thought I had myself put back together again. That I was going to be there for awhile. But I ended up falling apart again. I’ve learned its not easy putting yourself back together; to only see you fall apart again. Its better then being broken though. I’ve learned to pretend, to fake a smile, to act as if everything is ok, to walk away, to hold back the tears. It isn’t easy. Believe me.

    For once I wish I could be happy for more then what it seems a moment. I miss the good old days. Happy and content, not worrying about anything, cause I was too little to understand, I was in my own world. Not anymore. I’ve grown up, seen what its like to be thrown around. Felt the heartache, asked why. Shaken my fist at the world, shed the tears. Only to repeat it, again, for a different matter.

    So many times I’ve cried myself to sleep. Holding myself until darkness pulled me under. Only then could I be safe; away from the hurt, from the pain. It only seemed to last for moments at a time. It saddened me to awaken. Dreams seemed far better then what I was living in. In a dream I rarely had a nightmare, fear or pain. For the most part they seemed happy, or just black. It didn’t really bother me for either, as long as I could get away.

    If I could I’d sleep my days away and walk during the night. My only light, the moon. Id walk around with my hair waving along with the wind under my hood, hands shoved into my pockets, my eyes gazed straight ahead. My iPod blasting on high as I sing along, the lyrics would strike my soul and I’d sing with everything I had. But only if I could, I’d dance my heart out to my favorite songs until I felt as if there was nothing left.

    It seems that happiness is a distant memory. Taunting me in the back of my mind. Happiness, was the old me. I am sad, hurt, pain and depression now. Walking around empty handed, nothing left, nothing to lose that I haven’t already. To think of me happy now brings a smirk to my face. I don’t honestly remember the last time I really smiled. But pain has taken a hold of me. I’m its slave.

    But for now I cover my scars away from all of you. I’ll fake a smile so you won’t have a clue. I ignore my fear and wear a mask. I’ll walk past each and everyone one of you with my head down. And none of you will ask.

    My dreams are shattered. Scattered upon my floor. My hopes and wishes are a waste, cause I know they won’t come true, so why even try?

    Is this a nightmare or reality, it gets harder to tell. With each day that comes and goes. This life has taken me atoll. Is this what its like to lose my soul? To feel like nothing, empty, a ghost? I walk around as if I’m not here. But then again I’m really no where. I lost myself between then and now. No trace of it, not even a strand, it was ripped out and buried in the sand.

    But do you really care? You take one look at me and look scared. Is there some type of blackness surrounding me keeping everyone out? Or is it I who doesn’t want you to come near for the fear of hurting you and pulling you into darkness with me?