What has become of this wasted life?
Twisted and hollowed, lying in the corner.
Is she dead, maybe only on the inside?
If only we had seen her.
If only we had cared.
If only we could give a damn.
No, she is better off inside her head,
where nothing can hurt her anymore.

They are oh so wrong.
This is where the demons reside.
The memories lurk in the shadows.
The dead come back to life.
The whispers finally grow loud enough to hear,
and they never stop screaming at me.
This is the place that destroys me most,
though I hide in here for their sake.
They have shown me they don’t want me,
why should I make them suffer the sight of me,
when I can simply hide...
And slowly lose myself to all the pain.
I will forever hide in this place,
where the tears never stop,
and the feelings are lost,
and the reasons of my self-loathing are
ENDLESS.

By Genicide Redone, 18