you say mental illness is a big deal until
i am sitting surrounded by trash in my car because its the only place i feel safe
until
i am crying when i wake up because i don't want to wake up
until
i am searching through pictures trying to find a scrap of light
until
i am sitting on the bathroom floor drinking the half empty beer i found in the recycling
until
i get attached to the drawings on my legs and cry when they go away
until
my plants all die because i cant water them
until
my pets die because i cant feed them
until
i starve myself on accident
until
my room has to be heavy or i cant breathe
until
i block everyone on my contacts list because i feel like they are watching me
until
i cant run anymore
until
i cant walk anymore
until
there is nothing left but you still want more

I'm always break self increment,
Please...,
break the link of these passing moments,
Maybe, it's will be free, or leave me...
#thought #self #increnment #break

Why not give words a breath in the pages,
They too have the right to their lives…
My eyes love dreams,
Please, you unnecessarily weave dreams...!
If you become a stone, I will break you,
Steps with that stagger along, I'll leave you...!
#thought #life #dream #words #step #alive

her soul burnt, charred pieces fell apart,
the flames of the cruel fire seared into her heart,
and what was it made of?
Only what people made of it, as a heartless soul
but she only knew of love and that's all she wanted
until they killed her soul
and buried her ashes.

grown into flowers,
her ashes cried every morning,
they hurt her terribly
but nature has it's consequences

You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken






              ©words of a withering soul

No one knows why I went bad  
When the sun rose, I lost sight of that young brat
As days go by, I'm left with my past
As nights go by, I put on my mask

All I can do is fix the mistakes
Allowing myself to set sail on lakes, first
Letting destiny be my anchor
Its sails are carried by the wind and the water

I may carry on with some abandon
And the victories might come all of a sudden
Yet, the losses do not bother me anyway
I know I am destined to win, today

in summer sunsets I find the glowing
embers of your eyes
as if the poets and painters
gazed upon your irises in reference

the art sat for centuries before your date of birth
as if some prophecy
that roses could be pale as ice
with scathing tones and imbruing eyes to my forested mind