Here I stand
Empty hands
Wishing my wrists were bleeding
To stop the pain from the beatings
You stare at the wall across from you blankly. All you can do is stare. It hurt too much to do anything else. You hesitantly glance down at your limp arms and the many scars that covered them. A tear slowly descends down your cheek and soon more follow it. “Please stop crying.”, a faint voice whispers in your ear. You disobey the voice and you let out a choked sob. The voice again tries to console you, but you can’t seem to hear it.
There you stood
Holding me
Waiting for me to notice you
But who are you?
Warm arms envelop your form from behind and you lay your head back on the chest that they’re connected to. The tears are still flowing, but there is less of them now. “You must stay strong for me, _____. As long as you have the will to keep going, I will always watch over you. Until the time comes for you to be by my side...” You sniffle and wipe your eyes, then look behind you. All you find is the painting of him on the wall that you had completed last month.
You are truth
Outscreaming these lies.
You are the truth
Saving my life.
You whimper as another lash of the belt makes your back sting. “If I find you wandering around the cemetery again, you’ll get a lot worse than that!”, you “caretaker” states. You lived in an orphanage that was located in a town that no one has ever likely heard of. You were brought there the previous year after your parents had decided to run away to another country after (age) years of raising you. Had you done any wrong? Of course not. Your parents had never wanted children, but for some unknown reason they let you be born. Most days you wished that they had decided otherwise.
“Useless brat. I honesty don’t know why you were even born. You’re such a waste of oxygen.” She leaves your room and you stay lying on the floor. “Don’t listen to her, _____. She is the one who doesn’t deserve to live.” You look up at the one of the many murals of him and your vision begins to blur. “Why did you have to go?”, you sob.
The warmth of your embrace.
Melts my frostbitten spirit.
You speak the truth and I hear it.
The words are
I love you
And I have to believe in you
But who are you?
You remember all of the good times you had both spent together and the bad. Any moments spent with him were better than none at all. Your mind flashbacked to the last time you saw him. He was lying in his bed, stricken down with a high fever for at least two weeks. You knew there was no chance of him staying alive, but you had to pray that he would overcome this sickness. One night, while you were at his bedside listening to his quick and shallow breathing, he spoke. “_____... I want you to do something for me.”
You grab his hand immediately and nod. “Anything for you.” He smiles faintly then turns his head away and coughs. Once the fit is over, he looks back to you and whispers. “When I’m gone I-” “Don’t say things like that! You’re going to be okay, just stay strong.”, you interrupt with tears spilling from your eyes. “_____. We both know that I can’t be strong anymore. Our meals are scarce here and our clothes are more like rags. Please... Just listen to my request.” You sniffle and blink away the tears as you listen to him.
“I want you to take the money from our hiding spot and run away. I will no longer be able to protect you from her anymore, so I want you to leave this place for good.” “But Matthew-” “No _____. Please, do it for me.” You nod slowly and hang your head, letting the tears spill. A warm hand caresses your face and wipes them away. “I love you, _____.” You reach over and kiss his cheek then lay your head on his chest. “I love you too, Matthew.”
You are the truth
Outscreaming these lies
You are the truth
Saving my life.
You would have fulfilled your promise after he passed, if it hadn’t been for your caretaker. She had followed you to your’s and Matthew’s special spot and discovered the old tin filled with at least six-hundred dollars. You and he had been trying to save enough to find a home to live in together, but that was until he became sick. She took both of your life savings and locked you back up in the orphanage.
Since she wouldn’t allow you to leave your room most days, you did nothing but paint . You had decided to create a sort of memorium for Matthew and painted different images of him all over your room. The one addition that you made to them though, was the pair of angel wings. He had been your protector, a guardian angel of sorts. The wings suited him.
My hands are open
And you are filling them
Hands in the air
In the air
In the air
In the air
“I miss you.”, you barely breath out as you lay in the tub. The crimson water getting darker while the blood continues to flow from your arm. “I miss you too.” You struggle looking up, but when you do, you find yourself staring into those beautiful violet eyes you always loved. “It’s almost time, ______.” You close your eyes and grip the razor blade in your hand once more. After a couple deep breaths, you begin you cut into your arm again, this time writing something.
And I worship
And I worship
And I worship
And I worship
You let the blade drop from your hands and watch it sink to the bottom, realizing you were about to do the same. You glance back at your arm and faintly smile at your “work of art”. “Matthew” was written perfectly onto you and you laid your head back onto a familiar chest. “I will see you soon.” He smiles as a tear falls onto your face. “I know.”
You are the truth
Outscreaming these lies
You are the truth
Saving my life