Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the poem. I have no money, don't sue.

Warning: Very dark, angst, mild child abuse and self harm.

Chapter 1

All that is left

Didn't want you to die

I won't say good bye

Sit here and cry

And I know these tears are to stay.

Harry hadn't left the house since he had arrived home - if you could call it that. He had drifted into Dudley's second bedroom, and stayed there. Scattered across the floor were the few belongings he had chosen to take out of his bag. He often settled himself in a corner of the room, his head in his arms. When Harry did eat, it was little and he couldn't always keep it down.

No matter what I do

I can't bring back you

Wish it weren't true -

But only memories remain.

Harry's treasured photo album lay open, however the pictures in it were still just that - pictures. They weren't real, yet they seemed so lifelike. Whilst the images would go on grinning forever - Sirius would never smile again. That look of surprise would be forever etched upon his face. Harry yearned to fall into the happy photographs. To touch, smell, hear Sirius again. Now all Harry felt was numb.

All I should've said

Echoes in my head

You're not the only dead

I know I'm dying too.

Oh Merlin, Sirius. Harry prayed his Uncle wouldn't have yet another bad day. His ribs still hurt from the last. If only he'd told Sirius. He barely even knew his Godfather. There was so much Harry could've done. Harry shook slightly. Everyone seemed to be ripped from his world before he got know, to trust them. Who would be next?

Watch myself bleed

My own bloody deed

And where it'll lead

Will just be my own failure.

"Harry? Harry?!"

With a start Harry pushed the knife under some old clothes and pulled his sleeve down. A moment later the door swung open and Tonks - in her orange, curly haired glory - surveyed the dark room. Musty and stuffy, the dust and the dirt stifled all light. It was somewhat reminiscent of a funeral parlour.

"Harry?" Tonks enquired again, her voice only a whisper this time, "we're going to take you back to headquarters..."

Harry starred at the Auror wordless and lifelessly. He concentrated on the pain; his only focus.

"Come Harry."

Harry made no move to get up. He was detached from his own body. What little control he had, was gone. They pulled the strings, he did the dance.

Now Tonks was waving her hand in front of Harry's face and saying something. He couldn't hear her though. She tried to get him to his feet, but he wouldn't respond. Tonks looked over her shoulder and yelled something.

Harry was vaguely aware of Mad Eye Moody appearing, tapping him on the shoulder and looking into his eyes. Then Harry was suddenly hoisted into Moody's arms, he gave a cry at the pressure on his already damaged rubs. With a worried look Moody pulled up Harry's shirt, and blanched. He started shouting something Harry still couldn't hear.

They gave Harry a portkey, placing his hand on the time piece. The assembly of red heads and bushy hair waiting for him were immediately banished. The adults laid Harry on a table and stripped off his shirt.

Red marker on sand paper.

Crimson blood on paper skin.

Nothing new, just what you couldn't see.

Dumbledore was fire called, but Harry remained staring in to nowhere. His eyes glazed, a sheet of ice surrounding him, shutting the rest of the world out.

A charm in the air with a flick of a wand and a hand on Harry's forehead.

Harry Potter slowly turned to meet the gaze of Albus Dumbledore.

All toys break

Your own mistake

A life that was fake

And here is all that's left.

A/N Short because it's from Harry's pov and he's hardly in a state to take in very much.

Please review, all comments are very much appreciated.