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?
Poetry Slam: