If eyes are the windows of a soul, mine are mirrors
Mirrors crashing at your feet,
shattering into splitters that grow into trees
The roots are ingrained so deep they cannot be unearthed
They spiral around my arms
Clawing
Grasping

I'm trying to dig myself out of the dirt, but it only causes more to pour in
They keep repeating that what is happening is only in my head,
but thats the point isn't it?
They can't see the wounds that exist,
perhaps even ones that they themselves have caused

As I walk the words continue to bite my heels,
only to settle as weights dragging me lower with each step
Trying to drag me down to their level
Trying to make loose everything

They tell me I don't have anything left here
"You have nothing to loose," they say. "Nothing."
And thats what I feel like
Nothing
Opposing voices chatter and drown at the surface above me
I am sinking

I can hear the voices louder now
I hear them seeping in from the cracks I'm desperately trying to fill,
causing sand to trickle out of my mouth
Disabling me from seeking help
Rendering me unable to scream
I am crumbling

The comforting words I hear some say are drowning in the water above my head once again
Failing to bring me back up to the surface
Failing to plug up the holes others have created

I can hear whispers in my ears
That I'm not worth it
That this is what I deserve,
and i think I'm starting to believe it

As a child they tell you that monsters don't exist,
a figment of the imagination
But I've seen them
I've heard them
I've felt them

The words that I've heard them mutter under their breath at me are bleeding into my subconscious,
ready to infect my bloodstream in moments of weakness
To make me wish i couldn't hear
Wish I couldn't see
Wish I couldn't feel

These are wishes I make once year as I stand alone,
alone on a day most would find cause for celebration.
This is the day i dread the most,
only existing to signal that I've lived though yet another year of torment
I stand in a room with only a barely flickering candle haphazardly stuck into a piece of cake,
ready to give out
As I blow out the shrinking flame I make my final wish,
a wish that I could be that flame
And some days when I think back to this candle,
I think it might have been the single entity in that room still wanting to exist