I am done, my pen has lost it's ink
No more words, no more battles
I lay it down, the ink will dry out
In silence, my thoughts continue to scream and shout
The pages of these books filled with every feeling
Now a canvas of worthlessness
I am not going to bother with anyone
No longer will I be a burden
As death will soon arrive
There's no point to writing in this book
As no one will see
I barely bother to talk anymore.
I barely leave my place and the times I do
I wish I never had

Amidst my pain, I'm a machine
A vessel for everyone's endless whine
A call the mother makes, her voice so clear
Monique's illness, her own despair
She pours it all our without a care

My agony cast aside like usual
As I'd my suffering is but a ride
I'm a dispenser of sympathy
A shoulder to cry on endlessly
But where can I find my own release
In this one-sided exchange, I find no peace

Her words flow freely like a rivers tide
But mine are pushed aside
I'm but a vessel, a tool to be used
My own needs and feelings utterly refused

Oh mother, why are you so selfish to not hear my scream
The pain in my voice, that I carry deep inside

I'm not a machine, I'm flesh and bone
With feelings that you seem to disown
So here I am, a HUMAN VENDING MACHINE
Dispensing empathy

Deep into the darkness of my head
Multiple individuals came nearing
These are slowly becoming clearer
These individuals started to have
Their own say of what they can do
Suddenly I didn't know who I am
WHO AM I??
Am I rude, a selfish person or an evil one
Or is it the opposite
Am I knid, caring, helpful
I honestly doubt it's the second one
When I wake or come back into light
All I questioned
Is Who Am I

Looking outside and all
I see is chaos
The wind howling through
The apartment that I live in
It looks and sounds like
The chaos in my head
The dripping of rain
Are silent but still there
These are my tears
That fall down my face
Onto the pillow in my room
Where no one is with me.

Silently screaming out loud
No one can hear me
No one can see me suffer
I am slowly running out
Out of air to breathe
Every tear I have cried
Sits on my pillow
The pillow that no one sees
The silent cry for help
I say that I am fine
But I'm dying on the inside
What happens if my silence
Is the thing that kills me
Life is life
Death is inevitable
I welcome it everyday