On my morning stroll; it happened,
I happened to stumble upon, my child...

My dearest friend,
Do you believe in my suffering...

Every night,
When I lay awake...

How can she say,
She is my friend...

My insufferable emptiness,
Chooses its time to surface...

Huddled in a corner,
Mistaken for my pen...

Whenever i fall,
And are in need...

To leave me broken,
Away with a filthy token...

From a Mothers flawless womb,
An imperfection now lived...

No
one will love me...

I have no essence, no soul -nothing,
Which reflects my state...

*Not a poem, just an old diary entry*
i knew this would happen. Everyone says the worst...