Thoughts.

I let them clash inside my mind,
bring me down deeper and deeper until my breathing stops.

I sit alone wishing,
for more the this.

Your not superwoman.
You can't fix me, this time.

I am your daughter,
yet you don't notice.

The thoughts banging against my skull,
struggling to be set free.
To be spoken in strangled whispers.

But you won't hear them,
as they swirl around in the toxic air.
Soon to be mixing with your 'smokers lungs'.

And my life races ahead,
but I know I can't catch up.

So I sit on the gravel road,
until the pounding stops.
And my mind is hollow.

Dripping with crimson blood,
mixing with my fake-black hair.
Leaving it in tangles that I could never stand.

My white diamond ear rings,
sitting below the hollow whole,
where the bullet pierced,
finally freeing the thoughts,
from my brutally honest mind.