this is a poem i wrote for class that i kinda took too far and i love it now.... c:
I am from ripped curtains of lace
From screams and yelps
I am from a place
Where no one can be helped
I am from anxiety
From the land of regret
Unpracticed is filial piety
From hiding in my head
I am from the stage
From telling ghosts
The things I page
As I wonder who Hell hosts
I am from talking to strangers
From cutting screaming fighting
From me being my only real dangers
From something in my head igniting
I am from pointe shoes and paint
From the intensity of burns and cries and screams
From accepting my fate
From many crushed dreams
I am from Blood on the Dance Floor
From “why am I not dead yet?”
From being torn
From feeling left out again
I am from feeling the darkness swallow me whole
From role plays with characters that no one understands
From suicide that circles me like a little troll
From being disobedient from others commands
I am from the colors emerging out of the skies of gray
From being me, myself, and I
But that’s the only way
To really feel alive
