"Starring at the ceiling as it spins around me

Swirls of blue and white

Foreboding, in a sense of the word,

As I can feel my heart pounding in my fingertips

Ironic, as it seems I am numb to the blood spilt

As it leaves a stain upon porcelain skin.

A scar outside to match the mark inside

Jagged and crudely drawn;

And so my body becomes a canvas for my pain

A testimony of how I will leave this Earth

Painted, with a fake Clown's smile

As perfect as they want me to be.

Though Death is sweeter than the grief I withstand

And I'll pay for my sins with a higher price,

I thought you, of all people, should know

That you have brought me to my end;

Broken the girl who never lived."

5/22/2005