You were viscously torn from the womb, ripped from the soft and subtle flesh of your loving mother.

The claws that resurrected you from the sac in her abdomen was the one of your own creation.

How did you, such a miniscule creature, and infant born of this world, manage to make such a heartless dark being of pure greed?

For it is not that you were a fetus of flesh, but you are a fetus of sin.

You are a traitor among the pure.

An anomaly in heaven.

Leave, now.

For your existence is forbidden.

I am unlike you all.

Your pulsating skin,

Soft and warm beneath my greedy touch.

I feel your heart beat,

A triumph of your power over me,

As you were born from flesh,

I was born from suffering.

With great suffering comes no shame,

And with endless sorrow comes no understanding.

Like a sharp double sided knife,

The melancholy slices through life,

Rotting away at the seems of your memories,

Does the burn of the blade leave scars?

You pray it won't,

As it would taint your human beauty.

But God does not answer to such selfish desires,

Would he answer to mine?

I don't dare to pray in the name of someone so great,

'Undeserving' is kind,

A dirty scum like me shouldn't dance in the holy light.

A life unlike yours,

I'm at a loss of what I am,

But I know that I am not human.

the rain makes of a heavy storm outside,

it invites your presence,

and I greedily search for your warmth.

it's like my way of life,

to find home in the arms of anyone by mine.

how deep it hurts,

the haze in your eyes.

you look far in the distance,

to meet contact with a pair that aren't mine.

was the rain always this loud?

I need it to drown out the sound.

Your laughter combined with hers,

it makes my head heart.

Was the rain outside?

or was it never real?

made to help my pain subside,

and mask the high-pitched shattering of my shriveled up heart.

punctured with nothing but the rusted blade of your actions

my heart sheds a crimson blood.

so lovely, so right,

why did I mistake its beautiful vibrancy with the one of love and light?

each day painfully dreads,

my heart is filled with cruel, wet unrest.

we came to an end at my own hands

but yet blood only leaks out my chest.

did it hurt you too?

despite the knife never hunting you.

did it hurt you too?

while you watch it plunge me deeper and deeper.

I'd eat me,

just to make room for you.

I'd carve out a space,

perhaps your name,

and watch my blood drain.

All in the name of you,

though you hadn't the faintest clue,

of what my love could do to me,

but never you.

I weep over my dreams,

me and you,

a rift in the nighttime blue.

your influence painted my life,

adorned with sorrowful hues,

using soft or hard strokes.

not one or two alike,

but strangely they all hit just right.

Colors similar to the tears shed,

your presence filled my heart with dread,

I found myself craving what we could have been.

Drawn to you,

hopelessly.

Despite the pain given by you,

My heart

My human heart

wants nothing but you.

It hurts so much

every waking moment of the day,

every thought that courses through my brain.

Unable to reason with my own desires,

I fall into the fire.

If one day,

I can call you mine,

would it be worth all that time?

Every being has a tune fit just for them

Each note carrying the events of their life,

Stringing each emotion along.

The tune fit for my life is one of many strings.

With each pluck and pull,

The sound reverberating brings of a melancholic cold.

Each wire ambushed with the weight of my world,

Far too many cracks in the metal, and far to many frays.

Even with such flaws,

Would my song still be beautiful to you?

I didn't choose all that happened to me, I didn't want it.

so why do I have to suffer from others unhealed pain?

Why did they have to be bled on when it's not my fault they were cut?

Why do I have to be bloody when it's not my wound that's bleeding?

All because of you bloody monsters, I got used to the feeling of being drenched.

I've found comfort in the warm liquid. Like a motherly hug that I never got.

But now that I'm used to it, I find myself cutting others, and cutting myself just so I can be covered in blood.

To feel the warmth that I am just so addicted to, because it's all I have ever known.

I was me.

Then I was not.

Well, I still am me.

But with others.

They're all in my head,

And they all seek control.

To "protect me," they say.

But I'm the one taking the toll.

It's all too much.

I am no longer me.

I will never be again.