its the difference between separation and anxiety
that breath taken and the stars you see
my head spinning and the scars they bleed
hands with trees and parts for thieves
taking more of our wants notta needs
deceive and leave before our guilt does freeze
precede to do what our greed internal feeds
triggers the fingers that only haunt our sleep
it treats the feet as stumps
smiles flip flop and fronts
drugs snorted huffed and blunts
man thats just the story of my month
mouth cancer after spliffs with lunch
abdominal six pack or beer crunch
i can stop taking all the medicine that is you
an addiction that i didnt ever see before it grew
would only humility the few
and flew beyond more then his backyard or stoop
I can't be patient for any longer because I've been waiting for too long
Everything I've ever done feels worthless and like a disaster
I don't know who will love me when things get bad
Because things are bad
And the people that I need the most are too far away or too consumed to notice
To notice that I'm drowning in a sea of misery and paranoia
My breaths have become shorter and my pupils are dilated
I gaze into other people's eyes and I see nothing
A long time ago, I made a conscious decision to see nothing
And now I'm blind
But with blindness comes increase sensitivity of my other senses
So now my tears fall down my face and they feel like acid on my skin
Every whisper falls into...
This isn't living
This isn't life
Because life happens and this is something else
This is bigger than me
This is something that will still hover over my head when I wake up
And it will haunt me till I go to sleep
The worst part is that I don't know how to effectively cope
With everything life has bestowed upon me
So I'm left on the curb
Staring at a finish line
And I'm paralyzed
I'm alone with the thoughts and the voices that brought me to this state of recklessness
This state of unrevealed truth and blanketed wounds
My feelings aren't gone because I chose to share them
Shared they were, but only two people recognized the cry for help
I was transparent and found
But we're all too lost
And I'm too broken to win another battle
Weight is on my chest and I'm bitter over someone
I have been in a dark place for so long, that I've forgotten what light looks like
I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop crying
I don't think I'll ever stop crying
These droplets will forever fall from my grayish irises onto pavement and rocks and nothingness
Pain doesn't go away
Pain becomes me
I am tired and I cannot sleep and I'm afraid of what the future holds
Because at moments like this
I question the existence of a future
"I drank coffee, and read old books, and waited for the year to end"
But I've been doing that for 6 years, and I'm tired
So I need to be held and helped by someone or something
I need to remember what sweetness tastes like
And I need to piece together this puzzle called life
There are no leaves on the trees
Don't mistake it for fall
Because the leaves were never there
I need to be closer to love than I am right now
To love that is requited
The love that I've felt before
The love that is sweaty palms and mumbled giggles
Rhapsodies of savior
Help me save myself
I lay on the ground, shivering.
The walls around me are made of stone, they fill up my world.
I cannot see beyond them. Have never seen beyond them.
Instead, I lay in this pit, on the cold ground, with a dark light surrounding me. It is the only light in the Pit.
The light is of the sky that blows snowflakes onto the Earth. Far above, I see this sky and it illuminates this world into a grey haze.
The beauty of it is undeniable. Yet, a snowflake never falls here. There is no white to marvel.
Outside these walls, the snow fills a surrounding forest of white birches and the cold ground.
I have never seen the forest, but it is there.
I lay on the Pit's stone, shivering; dieing.
The whispers of the Demons haunt me. They are the only other voices I know.
They tell me nothing but what is horrible.
But this Pit and the Demons of Darkness are beautiful.
They are my life source and I am theirs.
But the price of this pain is costly.
the chill of a frosty kiss
the kiss of love given by the breeze
gliding as if alone on the rink
with only the sound of slicing ice underneath
I reminisce the highlights of the past
My little world built on a fantasy
As I, the queen for the moment
alone with my mind set free
only thinking of what is now
not caring about what could have been
because there a piece of my heart lies
on the ice
childhood, a piece of childhood coming back
not one to haunt
but one to bring a warmth in the midst of frost
that excitement and feeling like it was meant to be, all along
a place of belonging
now that I am older
I have not wholly let that world go
I remember and my heart flutters
love, comes back
and I only imagine
like a hopeless romantic
to find another fluttering heart on the ice
so we can flutter together
... g l i d e
Dreams haunt every aspect of my being
Dry my mouth becomes when I try to speak your name
Unfeeling to the blade that kisses my skin
Ugly oozes from the gashes on my arms
I'm a prisoner to the thoughts that rage inside my soul
Love is what I've felt for you but now it's gone
Death will show me the brightness of the stars
He will cherish me and make me grand in the world of the damned
Feelings will no longer matter where I'm going
I will no longer suffer
you haunt me, your lips
are ghosts I see in my dreams
kiss me one more time
its so what if i hate you
i still want you to take care
out of all fake love brought us
i just miss the way you stare
at me like you think ill stare back
now its impossible for you to do that
its hardest when i breathe out
all of the air from my lungs
while clinging to the bottom
of this lake trying hard to die from
either this pressure or whatever
this death brings first to measure
how much water i can keep in my lungs
its brought me nothing now
holding onto love like life
its so simple living now
life like the steady breeze
i am coming out of the water
a new man for living now
they said i can choose
anywhere i want to haunt
but i chose the same spot
where i used to kiss you
when i would walk you home
now every visitor that we get
gets this strange feeling
that i never had. of not being alone.
babe i didnt dance for reckoning.
i chanted for it and with my brethren
at the time: hand in hand on the hill
tasting carnal lust for the first night
we kissed to romance andto redwine
smoking out of the finest rosemary and most potent tyne
i wish i could dream of my new love
because i found a brand new rose
and i got her good like the gods
they thought i deserve it i would
fuck it up on the first time it came
to town because my baby well
she dont want me right now.
i just dream of you or less scary things maybe a funeral for two.
she says i scare her well just as well
i only have seven years
to live and die on this planet of hell
4 when i go to heaven. 777
i aint taking any angels with me
and its just as well 666
but imagine one could save me
an unstoppable redemption
i appreciate beauty in grandeur
divinity but yet i am banned in heaven - life is subliminal
i could be a blade for these seven
years maybe even for the Lord himself
would sin be outweighed by all of that death
and that when i sit in purgatory
waiting to meet my makers
i got the chance to fill out an application
just like for one of my regular day jobs
it said apply to do it all over again
there would be only happiness
guilt free or worries negativities
and sorries. well BabyGirl i wouldnt
i would only start anew
and be different than you saw me
depending on how i saw you
from your video tape
depending on the look on your face
the nights i held you in our firey embrace
and determine if that was just
In the moments that are waiting, crisply, to break into floods of
daytime-issues of deadlines and dirty dishes,
In the moments where procrastination is a smile and a fine lie nestled tight between hope and reluctance
this will happen:
thoughts of warmth, glory and wisdom will flutter
through your spirit- rare beasts, jeweled fruit-flies
waiting to be caught, just as long
10 minutes left
you struggle to hold to you
hours of wonder, days of mirth
all felt that one September night, when the rum had warmed your belly
and softened your eyes
and the sky was kinder reflected in the city drains
because at that particular hour at hand, they were rivers of a foreign land
saturated with dreams and magics-transmuted by the rains.
6 minutes left
caught the last train
home waited behind a line of tired women without eyes
they were trees maybe
or rushes by the river whispering of a home before a
home before this one,
some ancient stony place of arches and pools
i don't quite know
as the tracks beating under made them hard to hear.
4 minutes left- does thought really
cross at 'the speed of god'?
Such lines from plays by beloved men haunt one at the strangest times.
Thus, inspiration once struck, dims.
Thus, the end of the page approaches.
"Thus." cruelly, super-ego laughs.
Thus, work begins.
It's quiet for a split second
in my mind as my thoughts glitch.
replay over and over and over
that moment i can't erase for good.
but it lives
simply to haunt me
as i walk down the hall
staring blankly at the blinking
just want to get out
maybe if i get out
i can breathe
fresh air with no stench
of sweat and cum
the residue of bodily fluids.
have to get out.
have to breathe.
have to forget.
the exit sign stops blinking.
my legs stop moving.
I feel nothing but the lump
rising and choking me.
i gag on the thought
and hurl a pretty swirl
of colorful candy
onto the rug.
and as the deafening silence fills the room,
the daunting voices fill my head.
they scream for me to hurt myself.
they tell me i am all alone.
they tell me i am not worth it.
they tell me i should end my life.
the saddest part is there is no way to turn these chilling words off;
i can only drown them out
but that only lasts for so long.
and when they come back,
they are even louder than before.
this time they don't stop until they get what they want.
but even when i do give in and hurt myself
they are still there -
that is, until they get bored and decide to haunt me once more.
and oh, how i wish these voices had an off switch.
they do not.
and i suppose that is the tragedy of mental illness.