I've never felt clean.
There's something rotten,
I'm nothing at all,
Just a wasteland of ruins.

The mold they've carved for me remains an empty promise; I curse the reflection of disgrace.

I bathe in my wrongs, 'til I overflow; it turns into a pool.
Ripping a hole to be filled,
But all there is,
Is everything I can't be.

I've never felt polished.
Look at them—precious stones all around me.
I've never felt more displaced.
I want to disappear,
But already...
I fade into the background.
Their beauty shines,
Blinding them to me.

It's what comes from within,
But when it's despair,
Grand with cracks,
They don't want to see the depth of them,
So they steer away and adventure for someone who never took your place.

Everywhere you go,
You feel like you're haunting,
A walking curse,
Ghost to love,
Death to love
© Alex M.