I died today and went to Hell,
I was destined for this place, oh well!
I loved the people there,
we all got along even if there wasn't a prayer,
Not a Prayer for him or her or it.

At least I felt the pain tonight,
the thorns of love made me write...
I feel my heart pours out emotions too deep to consider,
in the past I'd sell my emotions to the highest bidder.
Beauty and insanity go well together but all is overlooked.

Yet I'm weakest when I love anything or* anyone,
it gives me purpose even when I have *none,
I care for it, them or* myself,
It's crazy thinking I never cared to love myself left on a *shelf...
Somewhere in the past like an old, outdated book I'm lost forever.

I'm on a slow moving train
Rickety, unsafe; chugging desperately.
Swaying under constant beating rain,
And I sit trapped and sick in pain.

Empty compartments, curtains torn and charred,
Boarded windows, seats worn and scarred
And there's a lock on the door
Where laughter and chatter flitter from the walls;
It becomes louder when we pass
The graveyard

The smoke from the screeching wheels
Dances its sinister rise, and is all that I breathe;
I choke on the fog and water fills my vision
People mistake the invisible devil for air.

And I think, what's scarier?
A train going nowhere with no destination
With my ticket lasting a lifetime
Or a train with an eventual
dead end.

we are the masters of self-destruction
trying to numb the pain with wine
and drugs
and smoke filling up our lungs,
we write down in lines with no rhyme
all the things
that make our souls burn and die.
our poems bleed
we drink their blood
then we write again,
listening to stupid songs all night
wishing sometimes we were deaf
wishing we were dead.
we let the doors open
anyone with a knife can come inside
cutting our hearts in half,
any tear is welcome
to create the ocean around us
in which we deliberately drown ourselves.
masters of self-destruction,
our bodies are temples where dying souls hide,
we run till our legs are broken
jump off cliffs
go between sharks' cheeks
forgetting to sleep
to dream
we bleed
we drink
we love
and hurt
it's a madmen game we play
each day
laughing hysterically
while slowly taking steps to the graves
we dug for ourselves,
the masters of self-destruction we are
lunatics
worshiping what's not for us to adore
crying
hiding
falling again
and again.
legs broken,
hearts cut and eaten
flesh ripped from our bones
lungs full of water
ears burnt
our eyes scream
but that's fine
'cause we are the masters of self-destruction
and our life is just a mad game

missing you
permeates my entire being
my arms and legs
my head and neck
do not feel connected anymore

i believe it began in my chest
traveling up my veins
and creating
brittle bones,
aluminum skin

my bloodstream is freezing over
steadily
slowly

until i am made of glass wholly
(i have fallen from heaven
and been made unholy)

i am made of nothing more
than  ice and stone
a statue no longer breathing--
i am no longer flesh and bone

as lonely shards
i litter the floor
until this black hole
has swallowed me whole