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Life comes crashing back.

The car hits the wall.

Glass and steel,

Weightlessly float in the air.

Scratch at your flesh,

Tear the skin open.

Old wounds bleed once more.



Why am I so scared?

Afraid of seeing the bloody face looking back.

Blood shot eyes,

Cryptic lies.



Before you,

Before all,

It was just a light cut upon the skin,

Now the blood pours onto the white expanse,

I came in last.



Walking in the soft moonlight,

The trees gently sway in the nighttime wind.

Creaking,

Speaking.

Yet I walk alone,

The ghost of warmth,

The shade of a man,

Of a dream just out of reach.



I walk alone,

Down the quiet street,

Waiting for the snow to fall from the sky,

Yet it’s only the white moonlight,

That blankets the ground tonight.



The rain falls,

From unforeseen clouds.

Lightly caresses my skin.

The blood washes down my face.

The white light turns crimson.

As the pain pours out of locked doors.



Confused,

Lost,

Searching,

But can’t explain.

Wish I could just tell them,

Everything they need to know.



Explain why I’m the fucked up man,

What caused it?

What shaped it?



It’s only the nighttime air,

That ever hears my cries.



Only the trees whisper back.

Only the moonlight sees the wounds.

Hidden scars,

Hidden deep below,

Hidden far underneath.



The greatest actor never known,

Everyday is a show,



My life,

A show,

What a joke.



Why can’t people leave him alone?

They always like me,

Get attached,

Try to save a lost soul.



He’s already gone,

Lost long ago,

Lost in the night.



Only awakens in the gray skies of winter.

Only feels alive in the cold deathly stare,

The chill of November,

Feeds his life of death.



Lost amongst the black,

A streak of red,

The pallet of his tired broken life.



Darkness consumes.

The man hidden in shadows in the back.



Still hears the laughter,

Still fears the stares.

The faggot in the back,

The loser alone in the halls.

A loner,

But wise enough to help the friends he hates.



Wants to feel the touch of life,

Lips,

But more so just wants to be,

To talk.



Doesn’t need what everyone else wants,

Just to be,

To talk,

Happy with the words,

Yet he is alone,

Because they just want the sex.



Expected to be a man,

Expected to be more then he can,

Expected to be alive.



Tired,

Lonely,

Angry,

Bitter.



Looks down the dark road.

The white,

The yellow,

Ignited by the moon,

Calling to his escape.

A drive to nowhere,

To drive away from here,

To never return.



The suicide of his past,

To disappear,

Start over,

A new life,

A new me.



Someone I can be happy with,

Someone I like,

The person I always wanted to be.



But for now,

The metal and glass is flying at my face,

Ripping the skin,

Peels away the past,

The bullet tears through the skull,

The bone, blood, and brain hit the glass wall.

You watch from the side,

But nothing stops it.

The death of a personality.



A person I’ve been trying to kill,

For years and years,

And still he lives on,

Tortures the broken boy.



The mad young man,

Laughing from the doorway,

As the body lies broken on the floor,

He escapes death,

For just another night.