graveyard girl.

back stabbed and betrayed , of course there’s always one to blame.

like always just another high school complaint.

maybe i really have nothing to offer.

or just can’t find people willing to take what i have.

some people ‘care’ and others want what i wish they’d do for me.

they want me to let them in but a fragile heart , can’t open

i want to change my name to oblivion

keep the void

deploy the emotions from the surface

develop a niche

make myself something worth to the human eye

can you die of isolation?