Death and Roses (a book of poems)

She was in darkness, so darkness she became.

I have enough feelings left unseen,
           Enough thoughts left unsaid,
to create a whole other being,
            up here, in my head.

And there she sits, but is never heard
known by no one but me in this world.
She's as dark as the darkness,
               that i constantly hide.
As blue as the tears,
                I've made but never cried.
For that is what she is made of-
parts of me that were killed,
                 but never died.

So as I grow, and continue to supress her,
She grows too.
I am never too far away from her,
No matter what I do.

When I have company- she leaves me be,
Runs off to some forgotten place.
I make them believe that i am truly happy,
So they don't ever see her face.

It's only when I'm alone she comes to me,
Her presence gets stronger
She burys me in a cold
I can't take any longer.
Repeats to me all the lies I've sold.
As my feelings start to stir-
She taunts. I'm the one who created her

And as she overcomes me, becomes me
I become scared.
I know she'll do what I've never dared.

So before she drags me down,
      Before she makes me feel it-
      And lets the whole world know...
I let her go.

And as the blood drips from my wrist,
       I again feel real.
       Strange how pain can heal.
She's free for now, a part of her is gone.
But I feel bad for the part of her
                                                   Thats dead.
For I know, as those droplets fell,
I've killed a part of me as well.