I should have had a little more grit,
Should have put a gun up to my head and quit,
Should have given the devil’s words some more weight,
Should have would have could have but it's too late
Would have stopped it all if I wasn’t so blind,
Would have traded my soul contract sealed and signed,
Would have done anything to wipe this slate
Should have Would have Could have but it’s too late
Could have killed myself, it would’ve only been fair
Could have ran away alone, a monster in its lair
Could have if I wasn’t too scared to choose my fate
SHOULD HAVE WOULD HAVE COULD HAVE BUT IT’S TOO LATE.
Dec 5, 2020
Dec 5, 2020 at 8:49 AM UTC
Straight off the presses of my warped mind
Comes another ******* broken record scream
Broken bottles and used needles crash in the current
Of my polluted ***** consciousness stream
Cambion Nephilim Paradise Lost
Under the heavy heel of the undertow
I Weep and see how awful goodness is
I'm in Charon’s boat as I Row Row Row
Slithering crocodiles wait to eat the refuse
As I drift down the river with no direction
While Gondoliers whistle in Venetian Canon
Sinking like a cannon to my ****** up reflection
That's all I am in the end a collection of thoughts
Written by better men and formed by worse times
Just another repeating record trying to scream
And thinking it will sound less desperate if I make it rhyme.
Dec 5, 2020
Dec 5, 2020 at 8:48 AM UTC
Self destruction is a prerequisite to be a fighter,
we play ****** knuckles with ourselves till we're nearly dead,
just to prove that we are unbreakable, invulnerable,
and yet we still end up staining everything red.
We're all scars and trophies, made of contradictions
disciplined yet still all ruled by addiction
we can win any fight but can't beat this affliction
that we bought with our souls and conviction,
And then one day father time refuses to wait,
your knuckles scar over and your nose heals straight,
and when you die all you'll be able to show at heaven's gate,
is these scars, empty trophies, and the beautiful violence you used to create.
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 2:52 AM UTC
God I'm so tired I just want to rest
but there's this dull pounding pain in my chest
ramming against my ribs when I try to lie down
and that's when I realize I'm still underwater, about to drown.
So I swim to the surface and try to stay strong
but I can't keep my head above water long
because the waves keep pushing me back under
like they follow the drumbeat of the crashing thunder.
my vision goes dark and my limbs get heavy as I gasp for air
but of course, just like everything, there's nothing there.
So I dive down to find the anchor around my ankle,
lean against it, close my eyes, and fall asleep.
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 2:26 AM UTC
Dark times and bleak signs circle in my head
As the devil whispers in my ear while I lie in bed
Coming like the raven at the final bell
To carry my unworthy soul down to cold cold hell
The dead prophets of false messiahs
Whisper eldritch mantras peddling the souls of pariahs
And begging me for my own life
As the new moon glints with impossible light on the edge of the knife
All these decaying archaic arcane ramblings bouncing in my skull
Slicing through my grey matter like knives and leaving me dull,
I come face to face with the dead prophets and the devil they serve,
And then I wake up and hide from my mirror.
Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 1:43 AM UTC
I've relearned a lot of life lessons because of you, things I had let myself forget.
Never get invested in someone who demands that you be 'low maintenance' if you are going to stay in their lives. Don't fall for bedroom talk, it means nothing. Anyone who calls themselves selfish is likely telling the truth, especially if they know what they're asking will hurt you but they continually ask anyway. Cowards confuse anger with bravery, but you shouldn't. People who are incapable of looking past imperfections will not only be miserable, they will make anyone who tries to love them miserable as well. Working on flaws is important, but so is recognizing that any kind of relationship, platonic or otherwise, is based on a commitment to work past flaws that cannot be worked out because the whole of the person is worth that small sacrifice.
Feb 25, 2020
Feb 25, 2020 at 1:57 AM UTC
Under threat of death I bob and weave,
desperately dodging these juggernaut blows,
thrown by ghosts and devils I can't see,
and it's only a matter of time until I get caught.
But still, this one step from death adrenaline,
is the only time I can be sure I have heart,
its the only thing I'm still in love with,
how could I ever leave that behind.
Late night headaches and trouble breathing,
limping up the stairs and wincing through hugs from my mother,
and yet all I can think of even with all that I've lost,
is that intangible thing I only have when I'm barely alive.
I've sold my soul for a one in a million gamble,
I've bargained my sanity for sweat and belief.
A belief that for once in my ******* life,
I can stay alive by moving forward instead of running away.
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 1:15 AM UTC
Medea, Morgana, and Jezebel,
say that if I still have a soul left to sell,
they'll gladly lie with me and hold me real tight,
so for once in my life I might sleep through the night.
But I'll stay up alone till the sun scrapes the sky,
cause my talent is tied to this pain and my pride,
So I'll never feel better, I won't clean the slate,
No I won't ever be happy, because I want to be great.
Im a man made of gold with a heart made of fire,
I'll melt down to **** giving into desire,
I'm surrounded but I'm still all alone,
because ambition won't let me pick up the phone.
I'll trace these empty circles around empty words,
and I'll use a razor to cut my soul into thirds,
One to the devil to pay for my ambition,
One to my obsession for the blood on the ground,
and one to Medea.
Dec 18, 2019
Dec 18, 2019 at 3:06 AM UTC
I've got whiplash from all the places your swinging me,
you've got me in heaven, you've got me in hell,
falling asleep against my chest, keeping me at arms length,
what am I and where do I stand on this blurred line you've drawn?
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 9:34 PM UTC
Sorry I fell for you. Bad call.
I was an emotional pit stop,
and now I'm *******
and you do not care.
I get it. I actually do. I used to do the same.
You got what you needed from me.
A shoulder to cry on, some feelings,
and now I'm inconvenient.
I'm not angry at you, just myself,
because I keep being taught,
and I keep on forgetting,
the difference between someone who cares and someone who needs you.
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 2:04 AM UTC