if it were being truly honest, it would say it's unhinged.
It would show the ripped, raw depths of it's spirit,
and in it's mind the demons rampage, teasing at the edges of sanity
and it overflows with the emptiness that threatens to consume it.
The moments where it let out the exuberant sounds of ecstasy,
overshadowed by the harrowing physical pain in it's heart it feels now
putting on a painted face, a painted smile.
screaming silently into the loneliness of isolation
How many times can china break
before it is nothing but unfixable powder?
How many times can a heart be toyed with,
before it is broken forever?
Love is a betting game,
and it drew the short straw,
leaving behind something inhuman,
living but not living.
- Diya
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