I saw the fireworks in the sky
And wished I'd die that beautifully
And somehow it was weird coming from a 10 year old
A 10 year old that was supposed to be filled with ecstasy
A 10 year old that was supposed to have a free soul
But it was shackled in by the demons

The demons from her nightmares
The nightmares that are still so vivid
Is it just now or was she always held back by those restraints?

I look back at her, the 10 year old
The one that was supposed to be grinning at those flowers
Not wondering how she's like the wilted version of them Discarded, thrown apart, forgotten from all the hearts

I look at her and her brown eyes are ashen
A remorse or agony that nobody quite notice

But I do, for I am her
Just the more twisted version
Unfortunately the monster she hoped she'll never turn to...
But here I am still picking the broken shards of her soul

Not to glue them together
But to use them to cut myself open
Hoping the agony would flow away with the blood
Only to my melancholy, it never does
All it does is to morph in those nightmares
The haunting, crippling nightmares
And the 10 year old blurs into a haze
To which all I do is to shut the door at her face!

~Scythe

© scythe