" This is one of the poems I wrote last year. I wrote this one at night when
I couldn't sleep. I know some of it might not make sense to you but through
my suffering it made sense to me."

She lies there in the dark
candles lit and looming
wishing for happy things
like golden flowers blooming

she silently whispers into the blood streaked pillow as tears drop without
warning and stain
inside she moans of sorrowness and pain
she shouts, cries, screams
tossing, turning, shuddering
demons haunt her dreams
staring into nothingness
looking in the mirror
heart beating in her chest
slowly but clear
roses wilt, dry and die
shadows seep into hollows
water floods her drying eye
rivers stream down her cheeks
tickling as they drown
no rest for weeks
her face holds a frown
scars line her soul
wounds too deep
they're never told
secrets to keep
hiding feelings, more stress
woeful eyes long for friendliness
no creature dares take a breath
or stops to comfort her
no one knows the darkness
not like her
every night it creeps
watches as she weeps
takes her sweet sleeps
her soul it keeps
though there's no peeps
sorrow here is deep
clothes, money, friends and family
from the outside all is well
all appears to be happy
they think why should she be sad
beauty is only skin deep
unless you have a good personality, too bad
photos show people long since past
smiling and laughing distantly
light reflects rainbows on glass
somethings missing in the dark
where she lies with her broken heart


 
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