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staring through me

like I'm a ghost

a mere apparition

of something I never was

and never will be

to you or anyone else



harsh words tear

through already weakened flesh

ripping and serating

feelings and emotions

becoming a blur

of what used to be

and what I always wanted



changing to be

that which we are

never destined to become

but that we change to suit

our own backward minds

that are engulfed by demons

that never seem to fade



becoming that which

I fear most, a blob of clay

to be molded and formed

into a perfect being

completely flawless

and free of impurities.