FeatheredSeclude

All I wanted was to feel worth something to you, the sole value you wrote my way was nothing more than deceit. Grandiose praise of everything you wanted me to become, all to burn down in flames as I wasn’t the portrait you saw over me. Each and every layer of paint you lathered onto my shortcomings, eventually peeling themselves like dead skin showing the disaster you hated. I was still the fragile shell that was far from good enough, You never had to take time to make it known to me, I understood your eyes. You poured so much into making me more than I was, only for the mistakes that put me here to somehow surpass your help. Watching all the care you’ve tenderly caressed into my mind, seem to just be let out like a sacrificial lamb on an alter. I can only imagine the churning in your gut and the disappointment, all I can muster for myself is to stare at the floor knowing I’m the flaw. I am still the fragile shell that’s so far from good enough, You don’t need to make

To feel like you are on the path of a fraud all the while knowing fate chose this path, coming undone every step and being invasively stripped down with each breath, where does this self deprecation come to close and closure start to unearth? Being so wrapped and bound within your own mind you begin to question if you’ve become blind, emotions so high you lash out at the slightest cuts, or they reach such moot low the deepest scars leave you with nothing more than a straight face, at what point of this back and forth does a medium get met? Everything feels like it is narrowing and closing in making it harder to breathe, inhaling anything comes off as being poisoned from the lungs out, exhaling comes across as an injection of venom within my veins starting at my heart, how do others expect me to have a sound reasoning when everything makes me want to die? Each and every heart beat pounds like another reason to give in to compliance, the circulation of blood throughout the

The world robbed us, robbed us of a friend and family. Ripped away far too soon, too soon to ever say good-bye. A crater left in the lives yours was aligned with, from nearby to far off. Overdosed in sorrow and anguish, all we can do is reel. Everyone asking what went wrong? What did we miss? Was this an accident? The world was brighter with you in it, as vain as it sounds… Overdosed and transposed, your death trading places with your life, your connection to many severed into ravaged cliffs. Our thoughts in tight coils, suppressing everything we can never say. You left us overdosed in turmoil. We left you overdosed in sorrow and anguish, pushing you to take your own life. We left you alone, we didn’t see the signs. No apology is enough to bring you back, all we can do is mourn and blame ourselves. Many of us will be bitter and blame you for not talking to us. We should have paid more attention and tried harder. The world has become dimmer with your

I’ve walked so long with hands stained in the efforts to clean them. This halo of blood being all that other have chosen to see, viewing me at a surface and nothing else. I carry tainted palms of my own error and errors of others I was a scapegoat for. Why is this what I am to bare? I feel like a ghost damned in a lonely existence, branded with the scars of others, paraded like a trophy. Slaving away as my mind body and soul deteriorate, degrading to nothing more than a sickly existence. I’ve met my breaking point, if they choose to only see blood-stained hands and halos, fine. It’s about time I lived up to it, and made those that stained my hands with suffering, be cleaned with theirs. Revenge. Lives selfishly cut short to end the plague they inflict to another, I don’t care if I am seen as a villain anymore. I held the reputation of being cold, it was a crown I wore well, guess we see if it still fits. You broke me so thoroughly I lost reality and hallucinations, making