Emotional Suicide

Days grow old and restless as time slowly ticks away.
Tears fall down like evening rain and hearts shatter like glass.
My head is full of demons of mayhem that play demented games
lost forever in the corridors of my fragile mind.

On ivory tile with gleaming specks of despair,
I stand looking at the broken reflection I'm used to.
Once a heroine and a savior;
now nothing more but an empty shell.

Golden in my prime - a protector and guardian;
now cut down with chaste movements so precise
to become but a mannequin of destruction
and a silhouette of devastation.

A sullen lullaby plays on a tainted record,
as my reflection turns to ice.
Heart clinching cries scream out through my lips
as my insides become a parasites paradise.

As I stare at the ghost that I have become,
regret begins to sink through my shallow veins.
Every second it burns into me deeper,
breaking the essence that I that I had.

Deprivation slinks its way into my dormant mind.
My heart becomes an empty playground
for harpies of sorrow to play morbid games;
kickball with my humanity.

In futile attempts to drown them out,
depression pulls on my heart strings like a mime puppeteer.
Raising the straight edge of sparkling desire
to the porcelain that is my arm - canvas for carving.

[Exhale]

Crimson pours from shoulder to wrist,
every slash symbolizes past sins.
For every lie, for every swear, for every mistake,
for every failed attempt...

[slash slash slash]

Every tear shed, every sign of weakness.
For every untrusting second and jealous moment -
the crimson shows that I still feel
and reminds me of how fragile I am.

[slash cut stab]

Ivory now soaked in royal reds,
my empty shell grows even more pale.
Breathing comes in shortened breaths
and everything goes white.

[gasp]

With sweat beading on my forehead, I awake.
My heart racing in pure panic.
Slowly I lay my head down to breathe.
For even in my dreams...

...I'm not strong enough for an emotional suicide...