Hope. It  is what keeps everyone alive.
But what happens when you lose all hope and no longer want to strive?
You sink into the dark canvas that you once called your mind.
The ocean pulls you under, leaving you barely breathing and undermined.
  The waves get louder as the bottle fills up from the sea.
Seething, she wonders why no one sees the weight on her chest as she falls to her knees.
She sees the people around her laughing and oh, so full of life.
Maybe she's invisible;
How else would they not see her blank stare at the walls while she holds in this pent up strife?
How could I possibly know all of this?
Well, she is me.

I subconsciously create the darkness in my head without giving it sight.
With all the constant thoughts that get jumbled in this dark canvas I call my mind, I don't realize it.
I guess I never paid enough attention and I'm stuck where I sit.
But yet I'm left to figure things out on my own.
How am I to know what's me or what's you when I lost myself years ago?
I can't find myself and the mirror never looks familiar.
I see the ghost of someone whose heart has never healed.
She trusts people, but from an arms length with a band aid as a seal.
She doesn't trust because everyone she did eventually would leave.
This left her quietly screaming and for those she seethed.
She's had no one her whole life and she's always trapped in a cage.
For fear keeps her there and she's just made that her stage.
He won't even let death near every time he reaches for her hand.
Death almost stole her as he watched her struggling to stand.
He watches guilt make her suffer as she begs death to take her side.
Death turns the other shoulder not wanting to see her cry.
He has a talk with fear persuading him, with him, she should go.
She can't take yet another day of feeling so low.        
She looks around her room as she feels the sensation of tears steaming down her face.
As the crimson color red falls down her arm, down from her thighs and onto the bed.
In the end, my decaying heart is slowly being brought to life.
But, what's the point of living if I have no one, because alone isn't very giving.
So, I cling to those who show me truth.
Who fight for me in these years of youth.
This situation won't get any easier.
But at least they gave a piece of hope.