NUMBER ONE:
I cross the line again as I run and slam the door behind me, crashing onto my bed. I hear the heavy footsteps pounding down the hall. My door swings open with a thud as it hits the wall. The screaming commences and I get what I deserve. Collapsed on the floor, sobbing, all the while a queer smile upon her face as she stands above me, and takes everything away that keeps me here. I have no strength to get up off my knees. One day, she'll lose control- and one day, I'll stop fighting back. NUMBER TWO:
As the blade digs deeper into my flesh,
I cannot hold back the tears.
By body convulses with thoughts of suicide,
haunted by the scars that have yet to be seen.
My cries for help fall on deaf ears
My longing for happiness slowly fades away,
fades away along with the hope of salvation.
God no longer loves his child,
who only ever prayed for an end to the life that was such a gift.
The blade knows there is a 'no return policy',
yet I pray that He will take it back...
... please, take it away.
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