Existing,
As a drop of water...

Everything that could be, is wrong.
Feeling like I don't belong...

Cloaking,
And choking back all emotion...

Outside,
Taking in deep breaths...

He spots me in the dead of night,
Underneath the willow tree...

I wonder what love could be,
If there’s really such a thing...

My heart bleeds a crimson substitute for the tears...

Your harsh words
And conceited lies...

(this poem might have been better in a friendship...
Somethings wrong with you...

Your bracelets sit upon my wrists
i stare at them, lost in unconsciousness...

Sometimes, i wonder, if i should tell her to run.
To save herself, from what she could become...

I do not want to beg,
I do not want to cry...