Stolen
Stolen – Identity Crisis
i sit here
breathing heavily
shattered into tiny pieces
i wonder how i can smile at all
with this cloud hanging over me
how can i be so fake
whats the point?
i scream and tear
at the remnants
of what i once was
what i once knew
blade to flesh
river running crimson
pure and free
killing me slowly
draining the physical
taunting, hating, wanting, seducing
the spiritual
i slip into depression
warm and comfortable
almost safe
i slip into a depression that’s not my own