Whining ain't usually my style.
To lean on someone seems wild.
Yet when I cut I feel whole.
The ache in my mind gone away from my soul.
But as a daughter I need a role model.
That man I once considered my father.
Reality check as I see it.
His only concern while I was bleeding.
"They see it they'll come, looking for a back story to your pain as your face blanks and seems numb."
No love or sorrow just plain fuck you on time borrowed.
Hilarious, I know.
A ghosts wafts past.
The breeze beneath my nose.
I wonder sometimes.
At the way I'll die.
Natural or my choice?
Engulfed in silence or in noise?
I.Have.Nothing.
No one yet I don't care. By my blade soaked in blood or choking on mother natures pure air...