Words.

Tears

I shed tears of pain.

Tears that cannot be camouflaged by the rain.

Tears that tell you that my soul had died in vain and took my body with it like it was hit by a passenger train.

I feel insane as I stare at the wall.

I feel like no matter how long I crawl, I'll never reach the end of it all.

I'm on the edge of a cliff, threatening to fall but never getting around to it because there's this voice in the back of my head that says "she'll never do it."

Even my own thoughts question my intentions.

My family turns down every one of my minuscule inventions.

Like the medicine that can stop people from being sad. Pain killers. A lot of them.

Or the thing that can stop people from feeling anything. A noose.

But the only thing being hanged is my ability to feel pain.

The blue bruises reminding me of the fists of my mother and the cold heart that somehow beats within my fathers chest.

My body will never be at rest.

My soul doesn't have the strength to protest the obvious detest that's heard within my chest.

I'm too weak to fight and too scared to take flight.

So I'll just sit here and wait for my own heart to stop beating.

The best thing I can be doesn't even exist.

And I know for a fact that if I killed myself, God would be pissed.

I won't be missed. I'll just be another name on the board of people who couldn't settle their own scores.

There are billions of names on a giant chalk board and every second, a name is erased and a different one takes its place. Forever replaced by new life.

You see? The world isn't gonna stop for a soul that's been taken by itself.

There's no such thing as wealth in a planet plagued by physical health.

The tears that come from my eyes are tears of regret.

The tears that hit the ground are ones of anger.

There's no more pain behind these tired brown eyes.

Just anger.