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Aug 2013 · 712
Christina Rose Aug 2013
Depression isn't just sadness,
it isn't just a disease,
it's like locking away your happiness,
and throwing away the keys.

It's the blackest black,
and it swallows you whole,
it takes away everything good,
and tortures you with what it stole.

Depression isn't just an emotion,
it isn't just a sickness of the brain,
it's everything you've ever loved,
and watching it go down the drain.

It's the absence of hope,
the dwelling place of fear,
it takes your worst nightmares,
and whispers them in your ear.
Aug 2013 · 341
Christina Rose Aug 2013
When the dreamer dies,
Will the dream die too?

I like to think it will float along the skies
Taking someone by surprise
And the dream will be renewed
By a dreamer much like you
Aug 2013 · 381
Christina Rose Aug 2013
Can I have you?

Can I have your morning eyes 
and late night yawns?

Can I have your deep sighs
 after long days of work 
and joyous laughter
 from watching your
 favorite shows?

Can I have your frightening
 holler when you’re angry 
and your low moans when
 you feel pleasure?

Can I have the tears that
 streak your face when
you’re down and the heart that beats
 within you to keep you alive?

Can I have every part of you?
Aug 2013 · 280
Christina Rose Aug 2013
How am I suppose to be everything they expect me to be when I feel so alone?
Aug 2013 · 946
Christina Rose Aug 2013
We are the demons of this earth. We are the vampires that **** away the life we "hold so dear". We are the monsters that ravage and destroy towns of peace just because we are blood thirsty.
We make up monsters by looking deep within ourselves. We find them fascinating, desirable, and lustful. Though we are those demons that we speak of. We are the demons within the stories and movies we find so alluring. I do not fear those demons and monsters that we have "made up" because the real monsters are all around me. They are all around this earth yet unseen by the naked eye. Only those who have seen it first hand know the evil of this world. The evil that those movies truly tell us. We may not be those monsters we have made up, but we are much more then that. Look around you, no one is as they seem, nothing in this world is.
I listen to the rain, hearing silence, yet screams of pain. This world calls out to us, wanting, waiting, for the sun to rise and for us to fall. We **** the life out of everything we touch. We create more of us to do what we wish upon the world. Spreading lies, betrail, and blood. Our hands our red with our mothers blood. We have killed our mother, the very thing that gave us life. What are we? Are we truly better then those monsters we see or are we simply looking into a mirror or possibly the future. The wars between vampires and werewolves are nothing less of the wars that go on today. We fight for nothing, we **** for fun, we die so that this world has a chance to survive.
Some of us resist, but none of us truly exsist. We are this worlds end. We are our own death. There is no reaper, only man. There are no vampires, werewolves, or even elves. We are those monsters we speak of and we will stop at nothing until evil has one. Our mothers and our fathers will always see us as less of a person. The longer we live, the more evil we become. Do we become stronger? No! Only weaker and deeper into the darkness that will consume the brightest of hearts.
Aug 2013 · 483
Inside My Mind
Christina Rose Aug 2013
For so long, I've denied,
visions in my sight,
voices in my mind,
my mental parasites.

I listen every day,
but say that I can't hear
the chorus of the fray
that whispers in my ears.

And now and then I'll see
the faces of my friends
that I have never met.
Perhaps, I've reached wit's end?

But no, It's in my head.
I know this much is true,
so I hang on by a thread,
and pray it will be

Throughout the days and nights
I push those things aside.
Each moment is a struggle,
each obstacle I

Hiding from the visions,
dancing through my head,
I feel that I'm losing touch,
and can't feel what's really there.

So maybe even now,
I'm falling away again,
as voices whisper sweet painful words,
and I scream with their tones,
and the world turns,
and I stay still,
and fall, and fall again.
Aug 2013 · 589
Christina Rose Aug 2013
Do you see me, little child,
hiding underneath your bed?
My skin decaying, pulsing green,
my eyes scraped out, my lips bright red.

The light will not push me away,
as you dream of horror.
The blood and intestines of my prey,
mix in with other gore.

Rest your head on your soft white pillow,
now dripping red with death.
Your legs falling down from your bed
are warm with my hot breath.

Mommy comes in late at night,
for she had heard you cry.
But did she know, little one,
that she was the next to die?

Your bed is my holding place,
full of guts and bones.
The sound that lures to your sleep,
is my victims' screams and moans.

My hands have turned to bony claws
that run down your innocent face.
I will make your ****** sweet,
and I will not leave a trace.

I'll chain you up, and lock you up
in a cage just for you,
as you sleep and dream of me,
and the horrible things I'll do.

So go to sleep, my little child,
and of pleasant things you'll dream,
for that's the last thing you will do,
before you give your final scream.
Aug 2013 · 443
Bittersweet Lullaby
Christina Rose Aug 2013
Pain sing me to sleep
Let me hear that bittersweet lullaby
Let it run through me.
Let it sweep me off of my feet
And take me away
From here

The most beautiful thing I could ask for
A simple continuous string of blood
Sing me your lullaby
Bring me your comfort, friend
You are the one that I control
You are the one that always shows
Aug 2013 · 387
One Night
Christina Rose Aug 2013
One night my brain will just go to sleep
And from my past, there won't be a peep
Just a soft and simple lullaby
To ease me gently in to the night

One night I will not have these dreams
And behind my eyes I won't see these things
I'll just sigh and sink and drift
In to a dream of seas and ships

One night the dark won't come for me
Won't creep quietly in, but let me be
My bed will be a place of peace
And maybe then I'll get a decent sleep
Aug 2013 · 336
Christina Rose Aug 2013
I like not speaking for a while—
Just serene silence in my room

A quiet so present you can feel it in the air
Hear the slow hum of nothingness—
Aug 2013 · 297
Christina Rose Aug 2013
She's broken now
Shattered like porcelain

A doll in the real world
That bled like something real

— The End —