Inner Child

I cried tonight.
Not like the last time.

This came from deep inside my eyes.

From the part that despises the very disguise it hides in.
Crouches behind a window of lies, peeks through the blinds and let's in some light, only to see how dark my mind is.

Closing off the light that enlightens, the atmosphere frightens her as she shudders from the cold, discovers she's getting older than her years.

These tears are not normal.
They are a letter from a little girl in mourning,
Writing to her former friend who has been engulfed in the flames at the end of her rope.

Writing to lost hope.

Trying to describe how her life has lost pride,
Lost the will to fight, and how it's killing her on the inside.

This cry is the one of a soul come undone.

A beautiful child staring down the barrel of a gun.

A note wrote in blood,
Begging
To be brought back to the sun.
That used to shine through her eyes and glimmer in her smile,
That light that used to come, is gone.

You're killing me in here, we can't think clear, and dear you know you'll come down with us.

The streams down her cheeks speak words.

We don't deserve this. You aren't worthless.

The raw rivers of emotion flow so slowly to an ocean of used tears, lost years, and hopeful cheers
That die down from a fear of dying alone.

It's a knife as a pen,
An old friend,
A tear that says as long as you live,
The voice in your head will be with you til the end.

The very end and never again.