The full moon taunts as she
Walks along the eerily empty street.
The stars glimmer, she notices,
From the corners of her eyes.
She trips over her own feet repeatedly
Because shes dazed, tired, and alone
But doesnt care.
Nothing matters to her anymore.
The world swirls around her
In a bewildering mayhem of color.
Yet she doesnt care.
Nothing matters to her anymore.
The moon in the sky seems to bleed,
Dripping masses of color
To add to the mess that at one time
Amazed her but now only bores.
She realizes, now, how soddened and wet
her face has become with warm tears.
But she doesnt care.
Nothing matters to her anymore.
Her world has been shattered
By a malevolent being.
Leaving her broken and bruised
And forever scarred, inside and out.
The disorder in her world changes,
Colors and shapes shift at the thought of this creature.
Why must she think of him
At the worst of times,
When shes alone,
When theres no one to comfort her?
No one cares anyways.
Why would they? why should they?
She doesnt care.
Nothing matters to her anymore.
No one else should care. no one else does care.
She is alone in a world that is against her.
Yet she doesnt care.
Nothing matters to her anymore.
Why should it? shes dead on the inside.
Her soul smashed in, it died the day her world died.
Her world died the day he killed it.
He wanted it dead.
He never cared. he never loved.
She never noticed his unfondness towards her.
She was blinded by her fooled heart.
Then he killed her insides.
Killed her just for the fun of it.
Beat her, bashed her sensless.
All as a cruel joke.
Yet she still loved, she still yearned.
She still wanted that demon inside of him
To love her and free the demon inside of her.
She wanted the love she had never had.
He never gave it to her.
Instead he gave hate.
Now, she doesnt care.
Nothing matters to her anymore.
Shell be dead by morning.
Though she doesnt know it yet.
Strangled by her own world of color
and strange shapes and creations.
She tripped on her own feet.
The ones she had been tripping over all night.
It never occured to her that a problem so small
could turn into something huge.
Swirling downward in a pool of red blood
and blackness, she died.
But she didnt care.
Nothing mattered to her anymore.
In death she found no comfort.
Just eternal hell.
The eternal hell she made for herself,
Her own chaotic world of strangeness.
No one cared when she was alive,
No one cared when she was dead.
Even in death, she doesnt care.
Nothing matters to her anymore.
June 2003
