A painted black box behind the books in a shelf,
Hides all my secrets, only known to myself.
The darkest poetry written in my most vulnerable hour,
Anyone who holds it and reads will hold the power.

Drained blood and dirty sheets,
I've put my heart in the box, while it still beats.
Scars hidden and put inside the box,
Hidden behind books, hidden behind locks.

No one knows what the box hold,
Secrets never revealed, words never told.
The darkest poems, with the biggest truth,
Complete honesty about my past and my youth.

Lies told to keep the box secrets hidden from the world,
To never let them see what's inside this broken little girl.
There are times I bring it out, just to give it a peek,
To see what I've been through, find my strength when I am weak.

To see that what I've seen has made me who I am today,
The reason I hardly trust, rarely lie and never pray.
To see that what doesn't kill me can only make me strong,
To see that I can not leave this world until I find the place that I belong.

Yet the world needs to know that I didn't put up an act,
They need to understand the way I thought and the way I react.
They need to know what I feel, to understand me,
Who I was, who I am, who I want to be.

I can't fight death on my own anymore,
The pain has gotten to me, shaken my core.
I desperately need someone to understand for real,
The way I think, the way I act, the way I feel.

They don't call me mysterious for nothing you know,
There's an ocean of poetry in the box I've never dared to show.
So, last chance darling, I'm here for you to save,
Although I fear, I'm doomed forever, I'll take the black box to my grave.