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Ink stains drip from my hands
as shadows dance upon the window sill,
It's two am and this silence is killing me.

Words have different meaning
for those who are afraid of the truth,
I'm so tired of unraveling mysterious conversation.

Eyes always stare at what they yearn to see
but never comfortable with who they live with,
envy leaves a horrid taste within my thoughts.

Leave me alone to write this pain
to expose ugliness and express the truth,
If you wish to hide within your fake existence; fine

don't expect me to tell you how beautiful it is...
when it isn't.....