look at all that pain
red hot tears flowing, damning any being in presence
daggers in the heart, eyes, mind
hatred
disappointment
disgust
HATRED
DISAPPOINTMENT
DISGUST
they say blood is thicker than water but since i stopped bleeding i've been able to stay afloat
the only blood left seeping from my fragile skin is a reminder of the damage that has been inflicted upon me from the beginning
of my existence, suffering consequences of choices of others,
my blood
oh mother, father,
it is time
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 5:18 PM UTC
glossy green eyes gaze out of the little yellow house
the sun gently kisses the snow-covered ground, the white glimmers brilliant as if this was death
the birds sing and dance in matrimony, and the little people in their little houses remain quaint and snug inside
the world is a beautiful place and i am not afraid to die
at the elapse of each hour, the green eyed girl chimes in to the stroke of the clock at the bell tower, and the bells sing one, two, three, four
but time tells her nothing
manic, she panics
the darkness enters her parted lips and takes to her brain, only to sabotage every last ounce of light remaining in the crevices of her brilliance
she drowns in a stagnant river of blood, further coagulated by happening wounds, painfully giving rise to the past, present, while she gasps for breath of the unknown
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
you feel like home with your comforting arms around me.
i long for your embrace,
but the distance between us leaves my arms outstretched,
grasping only the cold winter air that surrounds me.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
they say home is where the heart is,
but where does one find familiarity in a life of inpermanence?
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 2:32 AM UTC
i realized there is no forever.
people promise eternity yet wish to not see the sun of tomorrow.
people run from everyone and everything
in search of happiness and a high.
i understand now.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
we become accustomed to the brainwashed idea of what living is,
working more hours than time we spend with those we love,
to come home empty-handed with a sour face.
happiness is thought to be a piece of paper
that gets you places and things.
but is that illusion of materialism true to rid of desolation?
solace lies within
and contentment takes time.
let not our distraction of mortality wave us from seeing the good,
but our dualism let us see the meaningless of every day.
our moments are fleeting,
and will one day be forgotten.
what we smiled for, cried for, and died for,
will one day lose its meaning.
is this pessimism?
or is it truth?
is it objective thinking,
refusing to believe that
we are anything substantial?
one day they will laugh at our irrelevancy.
for people come and go,
and what is today,
will one day be in ruins.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
i could never tell myself "this isn't real" during nightmares and ever since your side of the bed became empty i know why.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
i lay awake in this empty room with
a miasma of dark thoughts that eat me away until im nothing but flesh and bone.
*how can i feel so tired
yet restless at the same time?*
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
your incessant interrogating is useless
i don't know what's wrong with me either
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 8:08 PM UTC
it's the kind of darkness that not even the brightest star in the universe could illuminate.
it starts in my heart then proceeds to consume my mind until eventually i am a walking and talking mass of gray and black.
does the color of your soul mimic the piercing blue of your eyes?
i never wanted things to be this way.
you're a thousand miles away riding buses to places unknown
while i'm writing sad poems of how much i miss you
and sitting on this bench that once sat us both
with teary eyes
holding on to every ounce of hope
that this was all only a nightmare.
and my deliberations are like clockwork..
this isn't real
this isn't real
this isn't real
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC