Realizing that maybe through it all I never loved myself in that way, always something to scrutinize and another to ignore. If I had loved my flaws, loved myself a bit more in that way, would this diary of mine come to fruition? The lives that have been lost now— never to be regained. I'll be relying on people a little less and lean more on my own back. I've got my shoulder free for myself and my lap all to snuggle in. If I had known the storm, would I still have ran? Back then, when all was black and everything made me cower, would I still have believed that there were better days here at home?

  I ran to a South that did not exist and was only there to further fuel the depth of the abyss I had thrown myself in to pray on my pathetic nature. The abyss became the land of worship for me and all wounded. They have gathered us there and stole our skin. I'll wrap it here and let you have the better days you are destined for: a world that is brighter and has bluer sky just for your nose.

  When you have fallen

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  Pray that you will not forget

  These moments that killed you

  I have felt sullen

  Saddled in my upset

  Hoping life would

  never come through

  I have crashed at the life that made me so upset

  I have forgotten the promises I have lost

  I have lived a life that gave me no grace

  It pains me when I know that I don't even know

  For you to come onto the podium of your life

  Stand slouched and recite the depressed's prayer

  Seeing no worth in your light, forgetting your birth

  Hatching a new world within built of anger and death

  As you walk on and become one of those who never made it back

  Those of them, who never knew the ground would bounce when we jump

  Never sneak in between the guards hoping hurting yourself is safer

  Hatchet your spirit and bury it after you've taken your shoes just so you can lay to rest

  Lay, lay, lay

  The river will flow

  And no land will call it its name

  Fallen and betrayed

  All is lost.

  Sooner or later, I hope you'll see how lovely the world outside the window is. How shaken we are to never see our blinding light.

  You will know soon.

  Now the days when the wind would blow me away are over, I have a story for you, just to make you feel the light inside again. Even if it's one last time— just again is enough.