I sometimes feel lost behind my trusted mask,
realising that saying I am okay,
doesn't make it true,
yet I try to convince myself anyway.
I become so lost that sometimes I wake up in the night
not knowing which life is a lie.
I try to create distance between now and the past,
but I have a rear-view mirror stalking me every day.
My notebooks have suddenly become
10 thousand words heavier,
as I write until there is no ink left,
and that is when I crave to release my blood instead.
I know I made a vow of giving up,
but it's the only thing I know
that truly lets the feelings out.
My resistance and will power rapidly decline,
digging up temptation board by board
from the abandoned basement of my mind.
The seven year old me fell in love with the devil,
when she hit an all time low,
sometimes I want to pull my walls down and open up,
but I have trained myself to ignore those pleas!
That girl learned to stand back up alone,
take a bow to the blade and keep it bottled up inside.
And now I think I have the most impossible heart,
which will trust no one like I trust the sharpness of my blade,
but I'd rather be unloved, lonely and cold,
than risk being loved and lost.
