My Empty Kingdom

I smile;
all my fingers bleed
and beat my conscience
black and red,
painting the silence
to muffle the screams
and blur out all the
hatred in my
head.

In the dark, I'm left alone,
with fear and empty,
endless
dreams
in which I'm
running, falling, failing,
and I'm silent but I'm wailing.

Fleeting people say "I love you"
but I'm not okay, I'm
not
okay.
Well they say "I love you"
but they
never
stay.

I stare at the silence lain before me
as I waste
into my mind
and cry where
no one hears me
because I'm too afraid to find
that when I need them,
they'll keep leaving
me alone.
I'm not okay.
And in this kingdom
I've been weaving,
I'm still alone and
not
okay.

I'm thinning
out my hopeless wishes,
starving
for a hand to hold,
throwing up
the white flag
and giving up
because it's getting old

to wait by myself
in an empty room
with empty lies
and empty "I love you"s
and empty hearts
and empty eyes,

when my throat is sore from
silence
and I break.
I cannot take
the question
burning my shaking heart to the ground.

If I screamed
but no one heard me,
did I even make a sound?