Todays a day I wont remember,
Tommorows probably the same.
Remembering not what you want,
But what you think you want.
In my mind.
Who knows what has happened in my life?
Who knows what's happened in todays tommorow?
Yesterdays a day I dont remember;
Full of fear and sin.
Sin a word I always have destested.
You believe in God.
I never did.
As a young child always questioning,
What is this all about?
Heaven and Hell are both the same.
Invented by them,
It gives them hope you see
I guess I understand,
But the word is just another I hate,
I guess I understand.
I wrote this a while ago when I was having trouble with my memory its better now.
Morning, day and night,
hopelessly I wonder,
Knowing nothing better?
Facing other fears?
I saw red and I saw silver.
when has blunt steel been useful?
like a wave of light,
there is nothing
there is silence.
then the guilt draws in, tiptoeing silently,
was it worth it?
what had I done?
there are no riddles no games
that was me
or was it me
so I have no idea what I'm doing but if you could give me advice I would appreciate it a lot thanks
we held hands
his hand in mine, mine in his
we shared a hand
we shared a thought
we shared our scars
it was two in the morning we talked until dawn
skin that was textured and drawn
as our hands touched we felt no pain
cuts and burns
strong and fresh
deep and new
covered our hands
we wept that's all we could do
I am trapped,
Not under lock and key
Not in a room with just me.
But in a place filled with persons
I am muted, their laughter worsens
I try to shout I try to cry
But I have been solidified.
I feel sick
Nauseous from my own mind.
My brain is the room I am trapped in
My thoughts the kin.
If there was no fear; I’d be something
If there was no suffering; I’d smile
If there was no pain; I’d relax.
There’s an if everyone wants, a smile everyone wants.
There always will be, we know it won't help, we know it won't harm.
We know it yet we want It; we want it more than anything in the world.
It's not a material thing, It's something else.
If someone understood, maybe I could.
Melting mechanically into nothingness, hiding behind my own imperfections.
Fading inside, no one notices, no one notices.
It's ok though I’ll be ok, I always make it through.
Channelling pain to make my own pains disappear; looking down at my open palms wine red crescent moons passing across my vision.
I look up; It's my secret.
Closing my fist; exposing my broken nails.
A way of coping?
Or a way of avoiding?
Having to scream having to cry.
In my blurred vision, I look up, but there's no one nothing just white.
There's no one, I need someone, there's no one.
They say their there for me. They say their here.
But when I say, they say I talk too much.
When I don’t they ask what’s wrong.
A continuous circle.
Or never beginning?
— The End —