We attack the tender hearted, and pretend we hold their values like our own

The honesty is, we like to pretend we are good people, and wear that mask to judge

We are not a generous, commpasionate society

We are not this glistening humanity

We are a dark primordial sludge, that still values our reptilian hedonistic desires

Over what is right

That is always how it has been

The night before I killed myself I tried to sleep but couldn't. The mantle clock sounded second ticks long-handed. Loud, long ticks.

I climbed up on the roof. Sat on shingles layered in leaves I'd promised but never got around to blowing off. The neighbor's cat stared at me across the way. A look as empty and weightless as I felt. She meowed one plangent note before she left me there.

Dark mistletoe hung unused from lintels long ago. You and I we stood there not sure of what to do.

The night before I killed myself I built a fire. Fed it the notes you wrote.
Declerations of love turned to ash without protest. Your pleas were next, their ashes floating up in black and white.
Columns of supplication falling cold and grey.
You never want to see me again; I saved that one for last, just as you did.

The night before I killed myself I searched my contacts. Only a few remained and still it felt crowded, filled with intimate strangers who'd stopped calling long ago. I tried to count the people who might care, but I came up empty handed.

The night before I killed myself the moonlight spilled on lawns manicured through quiet dedication only suburbs can posess. I enjoyed it once. Now the silent solitude I sought ran screaming, chased by racing thoughts and guilt I could no longer place.

That night I tried to tell myself to live, while the last lights flickered in my eyes. Ash is what's left when the fire dies.

I'm an apostle of broken things
of bitter blows and sacred stings
the night turns weary inside the dark
the taste of death come morning

I wake inside this unholy night
broken against a fearsome light
blinded by music too much too soon
the ache of love gone missing

I was happy. I wanted to go out with friends. I wanted to my days lying in the sun. Then, the storm clouds rolled in oh so quietly. They came fast, but they're not in a hurry to leave. I didn't see them coming. I was dancing in the sun one minutes and the next, I'd been pushed to the ground. Lying face down in the dirt while lightening struck trees and the wind tore down my safe haven. I know that I should've ran for cover because now I don't know how to escape the storm inside myself. There are blizzards so destructive in my chest that I don't know if I'm crippled from the debilitating pain or if I'm frozen from the inside out. I can't see the light at the end. I can't find the warmth of my living body. Is my heart still beating? All I can feel is my veins icing over. I hope the coldness doesn't get to my heart. This storm hit like a wall, knocking me off my feet and shoving me six feet under the surface of a frozen lake. I don't know which way is up. My lungs are burning, but the rest of me is numb. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay.

Ten, I need to hold back my tears
My anger, my sadness and my fears
Because I have a feeling that anytime
In this room, I will commit a crime

Nine, I can hear their voices outside
I have to stay here and hide
Stay quiet, stay unnoticed
Seal the pain, like what I have promised

Eight, let me see what is in this place
A chair, a table, a notebook, a lace
A lace? No, keep calm  you cannot lose
You should not disappear in these shoes

Seven, I noticed that the lighting here
Is as dim as my current year
The friends I had were the ones I lost
Maybe even the ones I care about the most

Six, I decided to look outside the window
If there is even any window
I cannot remember when and why it is blocked
I cannot remember when and why my heart is locked

Five, get a hold of yourself
What you are thinking of will never help
Why did you even thought of that?
I am so curious with the aftermath

Four, my notebook lies open on the floor
What is written in it? I am not sure
I get these thoughts and I write them down
Mostly the times when in my tears, I drown

Three, I gathered the lace, the table and the chair
I am still not sure with what I am doing here
I want to know what will happen
Will I stop, will I move forward or will I go back to where I have been?

Two, I guess I cannot stay any longer
There is no reason left for me to stand here
Right now I am not angry or lonely
But I am also not excited nor am I happy

One, I attached the lace to the ceiling
Took a last look at home, if I only knew its true meaning
I wrote down my last words that may answer a question
So long to you, to me, and to these emotions

i was never taught to clean my room
                                  to brush my hair
                                  to say thank you
                                  to love my sister.

my mother was too sick,
and he was fighting with my brother.

i learned to shout when i'm scared
                 to hate with all of me
                 to be scared of breathing
                 to destroy myself for others
                 to hide in the bathroom when
                      the fights got too bad.

but now,
mother wants me to clean my room and brush my hair and say thank you and love my sister and she doesn't want me to shout or hate like i do and be scared of breathing. she still asks me to hurt myself for her in the smallest things. and no matter what i think i'll always hide in the bathroom.