Anger/stupidity
Cold numb void
Unthinking, emotionless machine
Rage builds up. . .EXPLODE
Want to break, destroy, ****

The look of horror on her face snaps me back to reality
Her shriek of terror, screaming
I’m worthless
How could I do this to her?

Who am I?
Nothing, a monster
Bash my fist into a mirror
The twisted mangle web of glass mirrors my mind

Nothing, there’s no feeling left
The tears stream
The blood gushes from my ****

What did I do to her?
Can’t speak to her?
I deserve nothing
I die
No personality
Just cruelty

The mirror still hangs, shattered
A cold gruesome memory
I don’t deserve her
Skin still embedded in glass
I seen my twisted reflection
The monster I’ve become

Just die. . .

In a locked up abandoned room, stands dead people,
all worn and torn, all helpless and scarcely unknown.
They weep trickles of tears from their eyes, soaking down to their cheeks,
innocent faces and scarred bodies,
invisible to the world and their minds dreadfully drilled, with thoughts of insanity, as they rot inhumanely.

Open wounds and jars of acid, the key lays in one of them, torturous and hardly discredited
It's deadly, and extremely rapid.

Trapped and held back, suppressed and feelings of soul lack,
where the crows die at 3:00am, it's satanic, dark, dull and dim.

Hands burn and screams cry, the jar is black, so they hadn't know in which the key lie.

The secrets within, dark, deadly and too hard to ****** swim.

Weak and demolished, some people collapse in pain and satanic craze, the haze, the daze, thoust peculiar trickles of red rain drops from the ceiling above, rose wine red, depth is dark and foul like jin

It's ****** up...

Our ghosts keep all kinds of secrets, with their hands behind their back and face hidden and covered in black, suppression creates a place of torturous days and weeping eyes of display...
Isolation makes it worse, it creates a lonesome curse...

Treat your ghost well, then the dark won't take over, and make it dreaded and unwell...
Tell...
*All your secrets within

Hello darkness, my old friend.
It's been a while.
Can you feel the tension, the pain.
The blood has started pouring again.
The blade hit my thigh and drip, did the drops go.
The depression came back, harder than it did before.
Sudden, like an electric shock.
Sitting all alone in the darkness.
My body feels numbs, but my wounds hurt, but not as much as the pain inside.
Feelings of intensity, emotion of density.
Fragile and lost.
Soulless and  incomplete in these dark stages I encounter.
Drag me along to the pits of the underground, where I belong.
Burn me alive whilst I ache in torment and misery.
Banish me, whilst the claws rip me apart, inch by inch.
I am exposed, while hiding my feelings is something I'm used to.
But, you opened me, and there's no sewing me back together.

I have nothing left to say...
My words have been unwritten.

Depression consumes me to the last bits of my insanity.
I live pretentiously like it doesn’t bother me, like it doesn’t hurt, or mean anything.
I live in pain, everyday.

It’s become apart of who I am, of who I am meant to be. Like living without this pain, would be worthless.
I let it consume me, control me.

My anxiety rushes through my veins and the voices and conversation won’t stop.
My mind never stops.
And when I’m alone, which is constantly, the thoughts eat me up alive like a rotting corpse is writhing inside of me.

I’ve learnt to get used to it, living with such intense feelings and a consumable mind never gets better, it only gets worse.
I’ve let the pain become me.
The person I hide.
It’s the only love I let myself embrace.
Pure madness.

I was born to be alone, living in lonesome misery for eternity.
Thoughts get dark, things get deep, and since I’m alone everyday, it gets even darker.

I hate people.
Stupid, fake, and you can’t trust any of them.
But sadly, I need them for mere distractions.
That’s all they are, temporary distractions.
They never stay, I don’t either.

I’ve learnt to keep my emotional distance.
Staying detached keeps you from getting hurt.
But what I long for, I will never find.

Born to be misunderstood and to die alone I shall....
This misery will be the death of me.
So it be.

My life is private, my secrets drenching in hopeless fear.
I express out loud, longing for admiration.
Yet, I hold everything in, saying nothing, no word my tongue could ever expose.
Fake friends, liars, backstabbers...
They only miss me once I’m gone.
I left, secretly disappeared without a knowledge to anyone.

But once they know I’m gone, is when they start to miss me.
I’ve moved on, left the city and started new in a different one.
I left like the wind with a cold dryness in the air.
Unspeakable, they only coming back cuz they know I’m not around.

Incomplete, I’ve learnt to never trust anyone ever again.
Deep thoughts hit and I know what’s going to happen before it does.
Caused by experience, pain, loss, and abuse.
I avoid it all, and seclude myself in my mysterious fantasies that will never come to my reality.
I live life in despair, knowing that I’m the curse, the darkness itself.
I’m the person who’s devil you speak the name of.
I’m your nightmares in your lost daydreams.

Too much intensity, I may be trouble.
But my deceiving nature has you thinking otherwise... doesn’t it?

Maybe it’s just thoughts of people talking about me constantly, even though it’s not real.
Nothing is.
My illusion is my nightmare and my delusions is my reality.
Im never going back.
They probably never going to see me ever again, but I guess it’s satisfying to make them think otherwise.
To make them think that I still love them and we probably still friends.
But when I was around, where were they without my effort?

Without my effort, everything is at loss.
I prefer to label these people as my aquaintances.
Calling them my friends is just a facade to cover up my intense loneliness caused by my experienced deep ridden trust issues.

I have no friends.
I like it that way.
I stay detached cuz people are worthless to me.
I like being alone, it’s my new cure.
With my seclusion, I am nothing more to be.

If I call you my friend, please don’t get confused when I ghost you and never actually talk to you, but I end up coming back few months later saying how much I miss you and love you.

Don’t we all do that?
This darkness of truth and lies all hidden inside of us.

Disappearance, keep your distance.