I smother
suffocatingly hopeful embers
who will never grow
into the roaring flame
of a misplaced dream—
Dreamt in vain.

I've emptied the air
from their lifeless grave,
breathlessly ignorant,
your innocence,
I remorselessly deprave.

My bones itch, marrow burns;
My skin encases unbearable yearns.
I need to escape, need to run wild;
I need to break free from your dastardly guile.

I shake, sweat, and shiver—
I bake in this blizzard.
I find no solace—
Discomfort shimmers

while fire rains down
from snow-covered clouds,
          A perfect contradiction
          in my body's restriction
of feelings that refuse to be bound.
Too tightly riled, I am to be found;
          I pray
          one day
to be unwound.

Cannibalistic thoughts
rip through my mind,
        Feeding on every ounce of joy.
After having their fill,
they continue to feast,
        Until all happiness they destroy.

I crave the sensation of steel through flesh.
     Nothing can feel more true.
Thin chiseled strokes, roses bloom fresh,
     The artist paints with the purest of hues.

The easel, the lighting, my ritual prepared;
I lay out the canvas: naked and bare.
Knifing through fibers, I begin to forget;
On my palette one color, imperfect regret.

I miss the illness;
the sleepless nights.
The terrible fears;
the endless fights.

Overcome by drowsy
aches and sadness.
Complimented by
manic madness.

Shaking in terror
but no clue why.
Holding my breath
no room for a sigh.

The days were hellish,
long and gray.
Yet I yearn
for one more day.
Why do I wish
to be that way?

When all it brought
was hurt and pain.
Does longing for more
make me insane?