**** yourself cutter.
You're not worth it.
You're nothing, not good enough.
Just end it now
Before it gets any worse
Before you **** anyone else over.
Just **** yourself,
Because you want to,
And therefore you don't deserve to live.
Cold black hole in the earth-
Rot like your mind rots your personality,
Or burn like your ****** up heart,
Pulsing poison through your arteries.
**** yourself because you don't matter
And you never will.
Because you're worthless,
And this life holds no answers.
**** yourself so you know
What's really on the other side.
Do it, *****.
Slit your wrists one last time.
**** yourself cause you'll never get better-
And recovery is a grave.
You're a **** up,
So **** it.
**** yourself
Cutter
Cause no one will ever know you better than
The infinite darkness.
And you belong in the ground
Like the dirt that you are.

Carrots moping in the ground
Roots rot and spoiled orange splits-
In cold earth.
Worms squirm freely in and out the sprouts
And wander about without worry or woe,
No place to go but down
Tunneling deeper in Carrot-Worm town.

When you're a kid
Some nice person gives you a balloon.
You hold it in your hand by its string;
Touch the shiny tension
Knowing you could pop it at any point.
That feeling.
But I don't wanna talk about
When I was a kid, anymore,
And I've grown so old talking about it.
Cause all I can think of, nowadays
Is a not-so-nice person, giving me
A balloon for $20- that good ****.
I hold it in my hand by the
String of what is keeping me alive;
Touch the black and strum the tension in your
Head's sick symphony.
You're ******* sick, and
Knowing you could pop at any point.
It's that feeling.
But I don't wanna talk about feelings, anymore.
Cause I could never really tell if
I ever felt at all- but this is
All too much
And I have got to get my fix.
It's another $20, it's another
Tension in my head, and
Please, balloon man, make this
Feeling go away.
I don't wanna talk about
How it bubbles, right before
The s  l  i  d  e.
The chase, the
Tickle.
The honey sweet- try not to puke;
The relief.
The relief.
The relief.
The relief.
The relief.
Fix me.
A paradise of
Strung out dreams.
You shake and hang your head
Below the bowl, nodding out while throwing up.
I am the modern grunge queen-
The rockstar essence
Musical inspiration.
My guitar has never wept so pure
And begged for more like my
Voice was a cure-
But it isn't. And nothing is.
But this
Makes everything
Better, in the worst way.
Driving home the next day.
The sensation of wanting something
More than air
But can't breathe.
**** me.
**** me.
**** me.

A cold quest from a fable that knew no moral,
And no one could understand the nature of embarkment,
To begin with.
This desert was well equipped with the dismal dusts of
Desolation, as well as apt in full with a barren hidden
Agenda.
Something shrieked a shrill-shivering scream
But twas the cry of the cracking in my own head
Which had ushered an alarming response.
Furthermore the clouds were dying
At a slow and prolonged pace-
Allowing their thinning whisps to shrivel
Into shrunken heaps of condensed natural failure.
I held no judgment close to me.
For what was taking event before me had no
Means of apprehension-
And I spread myself across those open miles,
To feel this world pass through me
In piercing sheets of dull pain.
Then I was rusted,
And with the ever-dying atmosphere
Of what was once called by beauty,
I dissolved.
There, with the black hunger
Of despair, I gave myself away.
The world had succumbed me in
Grayscale and intentions
Spewing blackness thick and sticky,
Hot and metallic like the calm of blood.
Nothing offered resource for hope,
And the only chance I had
For anything different
Was denied.

Music slithers through my skull
Like a struggling maggot-
Drowning in my brain fluids.
I gotta shake my head-
This isn't real, nothing's inside.
Hollowed eye sockets ooze black
But everything is gray.
And my mind is still rotting maggot music.
It's pulsing, throbbing in dull metals
To slit my tongue in two for the blood of one.
I can't feel this, I can't feel you, I can't feel...
I am a worm, and I'm covered in dirt
And all I can do is play my part, and
Play music.

On the day that David died, I was
Sitting sober, wishing I was high
And it was always like that during those
Couple clean months.
The first person I told didn't care-
What's another dead ******?
As if the trash took itself out.

I didn't go to his funeral,
Didn't really know him that well.
I didn't cry when I found out,
Wasn't all that surprised-
He had been talking about it for a while now.
And we questioned, of course
But answers aren't always enough.
I wonder what was enough
To lead him there, lying on those cold tracks,
Waiting.

You said,
"He put his earphones in and closed his eyes."
My first thought was,
"I wonder what he was listening to
For the last time..."
You said you hadn't thought of that.

And I also wondered what he must've saw
Behind shut eyelids in an all dark mind
As the weight of the train
And the weight of the world
Trembled the tracks and trudged closer.
He told his little sister,
"Make sure they know,
I am happy now."
Maybe everything began to feel warm
Like the sensation of coming home
After years of being
Lost.

And I have to admit:
I've since thought to myself, many times-
"That lucky *******..."
He got out.
Certainly couldn't blame him.
Cause on the day that David died,
I was wishing I could join him.

On the day that David died
I was sitting sober,
Planning my own suicide.

Skin drys out, cracks,
Breaks.
Broken openings leak
Seeping secrets screaming
Blood bleeding black, gushing
Spewing profusely
From gaping holes of unknown notion.
Absence of reality
Flickering like static in the background.
Backtracking through endless experiences,
And falling through infinite possibilities.
The same new thing.
That new old feeling.
Body crumbles, collides within itself.
Scattered shards of fragmented potential,
Now settling in the air-
A film of dusty desolation left to subside.
Left to fill the lungs of nobody,
With sticky stinging, heavy thick
Strangle choke of no one.
Disintegrate, and
Disappear.

Dripping faucets leaking black sludge-
Clogging up the sink.
It fills up and has no place left to go so
The overflow ebbs against the edge,
The pressure builds and tenses-
Suspense lingers quietly above,
While fate hangs contented below.
The first splash of blackness crashes
Ruthlessly to the cold and still hard floor.
A shockwave of darkness ripples throughout the area
And penetrates it's path with calamity.
This is tragic,
And this is hideous,
And its all so beautifully sickening...
I could writher around on this floor like a dying fish,
Choking on the blackness and gagging from the air-
Fill my lungs up with poison, and let this disease
Bubble out my ears and mouth,
To mix with the mess on the floor
And the mess I'm in.
Feel an unliftable weight hold me down,
Can't move and don't care.
I think of how I could've fixed this, and chose otherwise.
I look up to the dull flickering light above me-
Until this substance eats away my eyeballs,
And burns through the ****** black holes
To consume my brain, and rot my skull.
Then I am darkness,
And everything is black.
All I can feel is my consciousness pulsing
In static fragments of
*Drip...
Drip...
Drip...

Such a deadly obsession- suicide.
It kills me to wish I was dead so bad, and
Fantasize about death all day.
Bleeding images screaming
In my mind and I just want
To drown them in my bathtub while
I fall asleep forever.
Don't want to get better, not sure if I'm sick.
But blood, crimson streams
Of decadence calling me to the grave.
Death.
So unexplored- so unknown- so unique.
So fascinating, captivating, decapitatingly
Consuming my mind. And I am so denied
Of the sweet surrender.
What I would give to know...
I'd give my life to understand dying.
To experience what comes after
With the choice to come back again.
Impossible.
But what does that mean?
Wish I could just be a vampire-
Somewhere in the middle.
All the blood I could ask for.
I don't feel wrong, I don't feel sick.
I feel alive and
I feel death calling me closer to
Suicide each day and I don't understand
Why I can't get rid of these thoughts these
Images haunting me breaking me
Crushing my skull in
Bleeding screaming death dying black black
RED.
Everything RED.
Everything
RED.

Sitting, smoking a sheet to a 90s playlist
Cooking a shot for the road
A fix for the fever I'll have 3 hours later
A thread to mend my torn soul.
And this hole's been ripped open
As a means to match the broken
But this beating, endless bleeding
Bruised the backbone of that notion
leaving only one thing left to test
The drop from out that ocean
Dripping quickly into glistening
Pretty glitter ****** of poison.

Corrosive rot and dull decay
Haunt the walls of every room
Prisoner to the ball and chain
That stains my veins dark blue.
Reminiscence is a ghost,
A life I never knew-
Sipping from a silver spoon,
That father's day in June.

My blood, my bones, my family
All just memories in the air
That kick up with the gusts of wind
And tickle through my hair.
A reminder that I still can't feel,
And they were never there-
My body left me long ago
And no one ever cared.

Rip me from reality-
Grasp me firmly
In between the fingers
Of existence,
And let me linger
So I can learn what it's like
To lye on the line of life,
And try to appreciate something real.
There is no feeling here-
Just a break of boundaries
Hell bent on Heaven sent mass hysteria.
Some hypnotic toxin blockin' all of the oxygen.
A concrete cranium of no common origin,
Orchestrated the concept of complex,
To correct the crooked in my corrupt head.
Death didn't stutter or hesitate to state
Once the shutters close you won't know
What is to follow.
So hollow yourself-
Allow it.
Now it's this abyss again
The same place I was always in
Never left, guess the consequences are endless.
Infinite possibilities.
Thrilling me chillingly,
Willingly, I am who I wanna be.
Cause I'm free.
Because I get free.

It's the ticking, the itch of the digging
Down to reality
Out of this abyss, and
Into transcendenence
Where its
Only lonely nowhere, solely because
A soul needs no reason when cleansed with supreme divinity.
It sickens me to know or feel
That unreal matter, material made illusion
To lose myself in.
See, I've been
Sick of the convoluted oxymoron phenomenon
For so long that it's just wrong not
To shake up a change, and
Turn this worn page
To a new day
Where although the skies may be gray-
I got faith there's rays of sunshine
Through all of this world's *******.
See I spit it like it is
Cause this taste on my tongue
Was once numb, and raw with some
Ignorant attempt at self expression.
Bitter with rage and self hate and rebellion.
Now I dwell in the flavors of nectar I savor
With one word.
One name.
Freedom and love don't cost a thang.
And ya see, it's really all the same to me,
As long as I'm free and in love.

I cannot find the common time
To realize these eyes died that night.
My brights dulled dark and yet still sparked
The burning breath to break my heart.
I swear I'll tear myself apart
Just to go too far.

Destroy this world that I've created.
Am I jaded or just faded?
Hated those words left unstated.
Grace did make it appreciated.
Grateful to be gone away,
I'd rather run then have to stay.
Who's to say it matters, anyway?
It hurts, but I bleed gray.

So who cares if there's nothing there?
A barren land may seem unfair,
But I would dare to breath the air-
To fill my lungs up with despair,
Just to cool the flaming flair.
Stop the coughing up gray blood,
Forget regret and leave my love-
To die away and turn to dust
Just to break the trust.

So I seem so lost and cold.
Gave up blood and glinting gold,
Sold my soul to growing old
*Just to die alone.

I wanted to watch a movie.
Knew you would appreciate horror.
Figured you could use some company
And I could use a nice entertainment system.
So I drove out to your house
Where no one ever goes
Cause you're always all alone
And I felt bad for you.
We smoked a bowl and that was fine.
I was already strung out and we
Went into your kitchen
You gave me candy and a coke.
Downstairs you let me pick the horror flick
I sat at a comfortable distance
Across the couch.
You said, " Sit closer."
I could feel your loneliness
Burning through my skin with
The way you looked at me.
So I moved a little closer but kept my
Torso as far away as possible,
Kept my eyes focused on the movie
Even when your hand crept across
My belly, I was
Extremely uncomfortable, and it
Was not because I am self conscious.
I was nervous,
But not because I liked you, I just
Felt bad for you, and so I didn't push you away.
I should have.
Credits rolled and I almost ******* ran
For the door.
I knew you wanted more, you
Stood behind me and grabbed my
Waist, pushed me into your room and said,
"Stay with me."
I half stumbled and sat on your bed.
It was comfortable, but I got
Up and grabbed my stuff.
Making excuses as you picked out my
Pajamas, you said,
"It's a long drive, don't use anymore drugs tonight,
We don't have to have ***, if that's what you were thinking."
I should have left. I should have left. I should have left.
But I put the pajamas on, even after several sayings of,
"I don't want to."
I laid on the opposite side of the bed.
Said, "Let's go to sleep."
You pulled me close to you
With a force that was much more frightening
Than that horror movie,
And I froze.
Just like when I was a kid. I laid there
Let you touch me and pretended it was
Just another flashback.
I rolled onto my stomach so there was
Less of me for you to have, but you
Pulled down my pants and took me.
Just like when I was 7,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16
I told myself, "If you pretend to be numb
You might not feel so much pain."
Thank god you got off quick.
But I should've known you weren't quite finished,
And it happened again, at least I had
Practice giving in and
Blacking out-
Separating mind from body
And they all wonder why I'm so
D i s s c o n e c t e d .
You said, "That's the best I've ever had." They
All
Say
That.
I got up, got dressed in darkness with shaking hands
Searching for something to
Cover my shame.
Angry, you said, "You're just gonna **** me and leave?"
I just wanted to watch that movie.
But all I could feel for you was pity.
And I walked myself out.
Didn't cry in the car,
I never do.
At home I smoked
So
Much
******
That I really hoped it would **** me.
I cut 12 gushing blood gashes
On my arm, the first time in 5 weeks.
I deserved it, needed to be punished
So ******* disgusted by myself for
Letting that happen, again.
All my fault.
Just like when I was 7, and it all started.
Every single time, it was all my fault.
In the shower I desperately tried to
Scrub my sins away
'Til my skin was raw and red,
Wished I could blow my ******* head off of my
Broken body.
Couldn't talk about it for days.
Today I confessed
To a friend who said,
"He ***** you."
But those words make it too real
I cannot deal with that again
Not now, I am not a kid.
Adding 20 to my list.
Adding scars to my wrists.
How to tell my therapist that
Our year of weekly outpatient progress
Has been destroyed in one night.
Wish I'd died when I was 5
The first time I tried on suicide
It was the perfect size that I never could outgrow.
I can't believe I've made it this old.
A shattered spirit, hollow soul.
I wouldn't **** you if I could, because
You'll probably **** yourself
And I feel bad for you.
Cause you probably believed, somehow
That I actually wanted you.
It is only pity that you filled me with
A filthiness that will forever stain my memories.
Scrubbing in showers, but never feeling clean.
It's all my fault, after all.
Maybe I
*Deserved it.