I want my words to be beautiful.
Beautiful like yours.
I want to see ordinary things,
Find the magic in them,
And put the magic on a page, for everyone to understand.
I want to have a way with words.
I want every poem of mine
To become a masterpiece.
Just like yours.
I am not broken.
But you are.
You see the world through pain,
And pain makes the colors brighter.
It makes the value of feelings
Climb higher.
Sometimes I wonder
If I should be broken like you
If I want my words to resonate
Like yours.
Sometimes I wonder,
If it will be truly worth it
In the end.
I wonder what it will be like,
To cut myself up to pour out the beauty inside me.
Just like you.
I imagine that you
Raise the blade
Slice your feelings open
And write your masterpiece
In red.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
It all started last week, when we walked down the hall,
I said that I loved you, that I’m yours above all,
You looked into my eyes, with much disbelief,
Not knowing what I knew, what was underneath.
It hurt really much, that you declined me,
But I knew and I know, that we could never be,
It was hopeless from start, from end, and from now,
How could I dismiss, how could I allow.
You was the girl of my life, and I know you still are,
But it feels like I was hit by a large, big freight car,
Dark contemplation, don’t now what to do,
I can’t live like this, I have to follow through.
I’m lost and adrift, can’t find my way back home,
It faithfully feels, like I’m stuck in a dome,
Nothing can bring me back, I'm too far way down,
The only option left, is to let me drown.
I can feel it myself, that the end is near,
We have to cohere, but it’s still to severe.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
I would convince you to love me
if only I could understand the reason
for what my whole being goes through
by the very thought of you..
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 1:45 AM UTC
When you break a bone in your body from a part which had never given you any sensation throughout your life
and whose existence was merely implied by its basic function,
suddenly as it brakes and gives such immense pain
That pain is processed in your brain which it identifies the source
and as it does, it recognises the existence of that bone..
But if the pain is out of an emotion,
as your brain tries to figure out the source and nature of the source,
you realise how less even your brain knows about you.
And as your brain starts to delve into this part of you,
as it tries to see you,
you give it an image of yourself.
It can be an honest image if you have the courage to see the truth..
or just a bunch of lies - and it depends on how honest your insight is, and how painful the truth is..
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC
There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
Something comforting.
It is a comfort only very damaged people understand- the tacit agreement to cause pain, and to receive it.
Pleasure is for people who have what they want.
But for those of us who are starving, ours is best peppered with suffering.
Being with someone who understands that carries its own worth-
I don't want you to make me feel good.
I couldn't stand it if you did.
I don't want you to touch me gently, or ask if I'm alright, or stop to look into my eyes.
I am starving, and so are you: I want your teeth.
I want you to make me hurt. And I want to hurt you.
I want you to hurt me because I'm not him, and I want to hurt you because you're not her.
We want to see each other suffer because we are starving and we need to feel that someone else is.
Don't hold back. I want you to lower me because I'm too good for her.
Don't love me, don't caress me. Dig your nails in. Drip candlewax on my stomach.
One step down from torture is all I can stand in the way of human connection, when it isn't her.
Punish me for looking at her like a baleful puppy tonight, even as you waited in my room with your soft skin and your sharp teeth.
There is nothing you can do that will be too violent, too brutal, too sadistic.
I don't want to be loved right now.
I am too raw.
I want to be touched. I want to be ruined. Leave marks. Smear lipstick.
Lower me because I am
Too
****
Good for her.
Let this heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs don't matter.
Help me **** it. Help me pin my demons to the bed and make them writhe, and I will do the same for you.
Let's exorcise our loves tonight and banish them to hell.
Let's tell our skin that it is irrelevant.
Let's say **** you" to the things that bind us. I will cut your heart out for him.
I will kiss your scars, not to heal them but to remind you that when you put them there you fought for something, something we both fight for now.
Hurt me. Fight her. Do it for her.
Do it for her because I'm not good enough to hurt.
Do it for her because I'm TOO good to hurt.
Crush me.
You could boil me alive and it wouldn't make up for her, so at least leave me bruised.
I will give you what you need, and you will give me what I need: not love, but contact.
Please,
Let my heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs
Don't
Matter.
There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
Hope is an understanding that the self at present and the self of future are different.
Hope is a belief in change.
Change in self is influenced by ones decision and ones reaction to circumstances.
Hope is a belief in free will.
Trust in self can let actions and decisions to be arising out of ones free will.
Hope is ones measure of self.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
That dark place where ur mind gets so ****** up that your thoughts are having conversations with each other...
That bright place which automatically sets ur breathing to a slow rhythm and makes your face muscle automatically contract to bring a smile..
Heaven and hell..
It is meaningless to hope to stay in heaven forever.. Just like any hell u r going through shall pass.. Just like a thought in the mind..
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 1:55 AM UTC
When you realise Lie is a function of mind,
while truth is real like air, heat, neurons and apple,
True love, to be real, needs to be beyond mind, and measurable
Only perceived by something more honest than mind.
When you realise action is real and not emotion,
True love, to be real, needs to be expressed in action
regardless of the emotion in mind.
Marriage is most honest as convenience
and most dishonest as punch drunk love
The pursuit of the emotion of love is futile
as it is transient and unreal by definition
Love that is real is expressed in action
Love that is real is not of the mind.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
Thank god for my mind..
It numbs me from the pain the birds and animals had to go through
and let's me enjoy the flavour in the meat
Thank god for my mind..
It numbs me from the suffering of others
and let's me see the world as a better place..
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 1:51 AM UTC
Like hope hidden in a cynic,
Like belief hidden in an atheist,
The pain hidden in your smile
Is what makes it so mesmerising
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC