They label me as a brand of failure, because i am a unstable piece of literature, they will never see the picture of me, why can't i be set free? i don't deserve this pain, i need to flee, all the fraud giving me a reward of pain, what stains my heart with the blood caused by the knives, what stabbed me in the back, i walk down my own track still, and then i realise, and despise the ones who hurt me, and they should know, i'm not a voodoo doll, so boohoo for them.

Poetry by Me (Cheyanne Mayfield / @demonless )