Broken glass

In front of the masses,

Turning red

And feeling dead

I roll

From my daydreams

Comfort to me

Gone,

A toll

Of staying alone.

I picked myself

Up.

High

I held my head

Past the fear

I looked

Past all that was dead.

I closed my eyes,

Soft to the touch.

I wanted to hide

Under my bed—

I wasn’t enough.

Broken glass

In my heart

Past

The fire

Last

To part.

Dead

Inside

Nothing left

To hide.

My twisted knife

In my wrists.

I’m jumping off the cliff,

From the sunset

Straight out of my bed.

I wish Aurora was dead.

Eyes

Close

I take

The blows

And pull up the covers

Over my head

To brace for the showers

Of broken glass

That takes to the dead.

Inside

My heart

I fell

Apart,

To hear

The songs

I no longer sing.

The dreams have faded

That I once clung to

For my life

I’ll take your knife.