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Gray Dawson Nov 2019
Drown the child in the holy water
It must be a demon cause it struggles beneath the hand
It wants to live
Let it go limp
Dreamy pink and blue surrounds the child in the water
Watch as the light leaves it's eyes
And the colors fill it
At least now it won't ask so many questions
Gray Dawson Nov 2019
I'm a teenager with depression
And I'm starting to have a **** ton of aggression
People tell me to shut up
And then they wonder why we don't consult

Look, I hate myself
And you likely hate yourself
And that's the joy of being in a world
Where we all get burned

I got crinks in my neck
And a back that is a wreck
Working too hard
So colleges see me as being "smart"

I have a noose on my fan
And a gun I got from a man
I've started to fantasize about death
But I know all the paperwork will be a mess

People see a breakup
And say "oh just wake up"
When adults get into a breakup
They become vacant

Why is my pain any less
Just cause I don't have any debts yet
I'm a teenager with depression
And I'm starting to have a **** ton of aggression
Gray Dawson Nov 2019
I am shaking
Fearful, as the shouts grow louder
Every breath leaves me aching
The hourglass has begun to fall slower and slower by the hour

Reality has crumbled into mere dust sliding through my fingers
Wordless, soundless, screaming
Avoiding the empty, shattered mirrors
Left to pace between thoughts, as my hands do the cleaning

I cut my arms on glass, but I'm not seeing the bleeding
Dripping down my arms from my veins are jokes gone wrong
Sitting, in the glass poured over me, I'm leaping
It won't be too long

I've done a bad thing and I can't be forgiven
I am smiling at the spots in my vision that look like stars
I'm dancing, swaying, to an unknown etheral rthym
The whispers are seeping through my gray walls

Words have become a mush of meaningless *******
I hear the floors loosen and soon I am falling through
Ego tandem videre stellas
Ad astra per aspera
Gray Dawson Nov 2019
My father's stony face
Gripped with expressionless, death
He just stares at me
And I tear back

The dirt feels too hard
The world, too cold
I'm saying sorry
But everything just feels wrong

I'm grieving for him
But it's not him who's dead
It's me
Gray Dawson Nov 2019
Obsessively thinking, about thinking
I'm thinking the thoughts in my head, were placed there.
Something is wrong with the part of my brain that does the linking.
The seams that were made when my last therapist took out my brain, are starting to tear.

I'm lost in the flow of my words. Planted words.
Am I losing my mind? I can't lose it a second time.
The verbs I produced, destroy me, with slicing, and dicing.
And the rhyming, has turned into pantomime.

What were the words I spoke minutes ago?
Have they even taken my memory?
A part of me doesn't want to know.
But this is different, this is treachery.

Stolen thoughts, stolen memories, stolen words.
Am I the "crazy" that everyone imagines?
My mind keeps getting split, halves, now thirds.
I think the diagnois matches.

I guess I was meant to be crazy.
Gray Dawson Nov 2019
What's next?
A **** test?
Why do we do this?
God, the things I miss

I used to see beautiful colours every time we met
Now all I see is an edge
Why did it have to end like this?
I yearn for one more kiss

What happened to us?
Your words still leave me with cuts
I'm sorry
The sky reminds me of you, so starry

Everything reminds me of you
That's true
I wish I could just let go
Say adios

But no
You keep coming to my head to steal the show
I cry tears of grief
Every night so the pain will ease

Try to make it up to you
But you say we are through
I'm trying to mend things
Let us try to spread our wings

You will of course refuse
I always lose
You are the king
and I, nothing

I'm losing my mind
A part of me has died
I stand on an edge
Ready to be led

I climb over the rail
God, why did I fail
I close my eyes
I'm sorry for all the lies

I say goodbye
I'm sorry I was so sly
I take a step
Why are you still in my head

I'm plunging towards the water
The sounds of your voice grow stronger
I rushing to my death
This was the test

Thank god
I am dead
Gray Dawson Nov 2019
Open those cracked lips
And let out croaks and painful yelps

Drag that bruised and bloodied hand
Against the stained floorboards

Flinch into the boot in the ribs
And let those purple tears swell

Give a broken smile
As you speak misery to me
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