It's quiet tonight,
Not a being in sight.

The hallow is empty,
and no noise is echoed.

I have a voice,
but it's not heard.

The room is dark,
Can't see a thing.

I'm blind,
Oh, I can't see a thing.

I'm deaf,
Sounds don't reach me.

But am I dead?
No. Not yet.
But I'm slowly getting there.

Forgetting the world
as I lose myself.

Drowning in deep thought,
Suffocating slowly;
So hard to breathe.

Turning purple,
Losing color.

Fading away,
Blind and alone.

I'm lost,
No light at the end.

I disappear,
and leave no remain.

Eyes droop, huddled by exhaustion.
Tho without need, they open, blinking away the urge to shut.

There's no need
To stay up beyond necessary, but for some particular reason --
Which I can not ponder what it may or may not be --
I can't seem to settle down.

The covers pushed aside,
Pillows flushed and checked for any bumps.

Yet as I rest my head,
thoughts seem to throttle into my head, and then
the pillow...

...

So I wrote a poem during 6th period... I called it Black Heart.


Full of hatred;
Blinded by insecurities,
burdened with this guilt.

Save me,
Someone save me from myself.

Oh, inside, I'm bleeding,
Twisted dagger,
This pain I feel,
Cuts me up inside.

Stop me,
Don't let me fade away.

My heart is poisoned,
but it keeps pumping.
The hatred,...