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I fall in love with the wrong men.
Yet, I still hold on to what I have left,
even though my grip is softening slowly.
My arms continue to hold on regardless.

Will I ever fall in love with the same man again?
I can see my days darkening and freezing.
Tears are falling less frequently,
I'm left with nothing but emptiness.

The pain no longer matters,
I can take it all without crying and screaming.
What is the point of living,
when I have to pretend my emotions?

A fucked up life is what I have,
yet I enjoy all the abuse I get.
People just come by and go on without me.
I salvage what I can get from them.

The black shadows are my only friends,
they always have my back when I want to hide.
I see the truth clearly even without my glasses.
My legs travel down the road to hell without stopping to ease the pain.

My voice screams silently in my head,
but my face remains cheerful and bright.
Where will my own life go from here?
That thought is what I'm truly afraid of.