Guilt and pain.
Why is it that those two words...

I'm still here,
though I'm not the same person I once was...

Runaway
from our negative thoughts of self...

I have scars on my mind
and scars on my wrist...

He was my anchor
to the happiness of reality...

Numbers and symbols
becoming a mess of swirling nothingness...

At home all I hear is yelling.
At school all I hear is insults...

That time of year again,
when carols about Santa...

I'm not going to say your eyes
are sparkling like the sea...

Fire sweeping through the town,
storms racing to put them out...

It was almost as if I were dead.
My bones felt so heavy...

Why must the good always suffer
and why are the evil always rewarded...