They called your side of the train tracks the "wrong side"

Mine the "right side"

Poked fun of how you were born

As if you could change the way you breathed

It was like asking someone to blend in or fade away

No real choice

You either get to be nothing

or nothing

That you're not accepted

Because of the way your life turned out to be 

Out of the millions of people you could've been

You're you

And that's not enough

Well my dear

When the world is collapsing 

And danger runs through the streets like wild animals

And every 

last

breath

counts

They'll look you in the eyes

See who you are

Who you've always been

And realize

We all bleed the same 

My secret to you is that I'm not the girl you loved

I am not the sweet words laced with innocence

The bright eyes and clear minds

I am not the picnic you took me too on our first date

Not the flowing skirts and cheeky smiles

I live in a universe of my own 

With just me and my poisonous thoughts

The curses

The recklessness

The concrete cold heart with chips and cracks and missing pieces

I am so much more

and yet

I am less than you have ever known 

I am not the girl you fell in love with 

But the girl who shattered you and never bothered to pick up the shards

I never loved you,

You say 

Even though we breathed the same air 

Lived the same moments

Held back the same words for the fear of being more 

Never 

To all those long nights you spent dreaming of more. To the places you wished the world could've taken you except you're here. Stuck. Living a life all too familiar. A copy and paste life where every day is just like the last and you remain the same person you always have been. To the pictures you've seen of people wandering the streets at 2 am, sitting on rooftops, running with arms spread out wide, laughter like sunrises and golden memories that will last them a lifetime. To the love you have not found. To the person who might've been. 

My nightmares consist of me. Of myself. Of everything I am and will be. I do not seldom dream of monsters that live in my closet, for I know they're fairytales. No. I wake up with the remnants of my nightmares still lingering. Always about becoming no one. Being an extra puzzle piece in this world we call home. Where everyone has a destined role. Everyone but me. And every nightmare is the same. The world forgetting about the girl who did not want to be forgotten more than anything. 

It courses through your veins like the bright blue of an ever glowing fire that licks at the edges, fighting to get out.

Twists the mind, animalizes ideas, breaks through boundaries as if they were nothing but tissue.

A rush, force of energy that pushes you into turning, and winding, and thinking, and wanting, but never, ever, having.

It's an abyss. An abyss that lies within your very soul and slowly eats you away at the edges. It's the earth shattering realization that you've done something wrong. Guilt is the very matter that makes you want to lock yourself inside yourself for the fear of causing harm. Again.