It hurts to stay,
but it hurts to leave,
and on paper,
the words find me,
the words that maybe
could put a name to
whatever we are,
because it is not "just friends"

We poke each other
too much to be "just friends",
your bag held my jacket
too long to be "just friends",
your hands stroked my hair
two times more than "just friends"

And whenever you say
"It's okay,"
my mind listens
because at that moment
when a wish and love
are in a perfect paste,
my mind feels okay...

So tell me why now,
whenever I speak your name,
my tongue burns,
oh tell me
when will you learn
that people are not games,
that if you keep pressing
the reset button,
a person might just vanish away...

You make me feel
like the most beautiful flower,
because it's always me
you pluck from the dirt,
it's always you that
trims away all my hurt...

But in your hands, I die
I've died a million times,
And I can't find
a drop of you in this ocean,
am I swimming on my own?
We're both sailors at sea,
but you're steering
this ship terribly,
I do not ship the
situation we're in,

How can love be fun,
when we're both conflicted,
our words restricted,
over-addicted to overthinking,
overtwisting every little thing,
until I am not sure
if I love you,
and you're not sure
if you want me...

But take it easy,
it's not like I'm in despair,
break me;
force a scalpel into my heart,
there's nothing of my own
that I haven't repaired,

I'm caught between
wanting to strip you
of your breath, and
wanting to keep you alive,
even if it'd result in my death.

Dear Readers,

Tomorrow  (10th of September 2016) is a day called Suicide Awareness Day.  And I believe it is nothing to be ashamed about. Every 40 seconds, someone is dying because another person did not speak up. This needs to stop.

There are truly beautiful souls out there that are suffering and battling with their thoughts and minds EVERY SINGLE DAY.  And I'm not putting it light. I mean EVERY SINGLE WAKING MOMENT OF EVERY SINGLE DAY.The stigma that revolves around suicide , depression and mental health in general needs to permanently dissolve.

It is PERFECTLY OKAY(to talk about your mental illness and/or your struggles...it is not at all healthy to keep heavy struggles within yourself. There are people out there that truly care and that truly want to help...and I know that seems like a lie when you are in a very dark place and that is EXACTLYwhy people need to start speaking about depression and suicide almost as if you are talking about having a cup of coffee. "I'm having a cup of coffee" can be said easily and without any fear, and that is how people who are suffering from ANY MENTAL ILLNESSESshould be made to feel.

We deserve to feel SAFE, SUPPORTED,  LOVED , APPRECIATED , UNDERSTOOD. We do not deserve to feel *MISUNDERSTOOD, UNAPPRECIATED. * And we do not deserve to be looked at or treated as parasites. People with mental illnesses have emotions too, and perhaps too many. People with mental illnesses deserve extra understanding, care and love.

So please, do not be afraid to speak up. Speak to your loved ones; a simple
"Are you okay? I just want you to know I love you and appreciate you" could save someone's life.

- Crimsyy♡

#health #wellbeing #mind #suicideawareness #awareness

Ps: **Please repost this if you agree and to show support to those suffering from depression. I promise it won't ruin your profile. Thankyou so much.

I do not like the feeling of
examination,
of eyes burning on my back
as if you are a small match
and I am the bushfire
you wish to light...
I do not like the feeling of
obssessive observation,
I do not like privacy violation,
I do not like the feeling of claustrophobia,
I do not like claustrophobia because
it doesn't cease to exist by simply
removing ten people from one room.
I do not like claustrophobia because
sometimes your own mind is enough
to provoke a certain type
of wanderlust,
the kind where you run away
and leave everyone to rot and rust.
I do not like claustrophobia
because when I am alone,
it can never be enough alone,
it feels like the walls of my room
are breathing on my neck;
they're laughing at me,
declaring this poet insane,
it is the most crowded type of alone
until somebody, something
sedates my brain
and you call me "suggestive anxiety"
it's all in your head,
you're a game of chance
and I'm taking a guess;
you know my face but
you know nothing about my name.

I was drowning,
I was drowning,
but saved by thoughts of you,

Arms wrapped tight
arms with your mark,
with the bruise where your arms
lingered to hug away my wounds,

And I notice
how you keep me together
when seasons don't
match the weather;
it's spring and yet I
don't know what blooms in me.

I'll think twice
before i sacrifice my breath,
you've taught me flowers
can bloom out of the nicotine
in my lungs, infact;
the darkness can even be **the soil.

If I were a solivagant star in space,
I'd link arms with the universe
and have her tell me that
all this pain was worth it,
that something golden would
blossom from it,
maybe then I'd be more focused
on planting seeds instead of
always drowning in the weeds
of my blackened psyche.

I'd burn, explode,
spontaneously combust,
and no one would tell me
that to confirm was all I
had to aspire to,
no one would be around
to make me feel like
too much of a burden,
as if I feel too much too quickly,
too warm, too much, too fiercely.

If I were truly solivagant,
I'd have no reason to cry
when asked "How are you?"
I would not avoid the
ever familiar question
"How was your day?"

Wanderlust would consume me
and I'd search for hidden gold,
space would not cheat me,
would not let me crumble and fold.

My tears would be of use,
they'd fall on clouds as messengers
to rain upon the seeds on earth,
to give life to the breathing dead.

I think I'd love to be
a solivagant star in space,
no magic tricks would be needed,
no quizzes to tell me
that I belong in this place.

These are my organs,
all trying to function,
mixed with one cup too many
of tea.

These are my organs
sliced to pieces by dishonesty,
who have bled too much
unrequited love.

These are my organs who have
decided to give life a second chance
because they delight in
feeling my body dance.

These are my organs
wrapping themselves around
a stranger
claiming love, love, love
in a world of sad never afters.

These are my organs
shaking off the sadness,
burning, burning,
and in the end
all that remains is
love, love, love.

I am your jungle;
You slither all over me,
climbing my trees,
suffocating my roots.

You've taught me
walking graffiti is
not welcome here,
So I do not know
why you keep me near;
I defy all your rules.

Let me be street art
for everyone to admire,
but let no one walk me;
I am a dead end.

I will capsize you,
I will exhaust every
molecule of yours
until you miss the excuse
of a heart once residing
in your bones,

And you will know how it feels
when your hands still
clutch at empty air
because I will not be there.

- Crimsyy

I am living, fighting,
some even say I am surviving,
but inside I'm dying,
inside it smells of death.

Where are my flowers?
Thorns now burst,
I've lost count of the hours
spent crying, wishing for death
and being teased endlessly by it,
only to be told death
had no room for me.

I've thought about scissors
in non-artistic ways,
I've discovered that paper is
not the only thing you can cut,
I've tried teaching my lungs to breathe
Father, they give up on me
and every breath stings,
But you specialize in rebirth,
so hand me a pair of new wings.

I'm tired of fighting,
I'm tired of this war,
I'm tired of wondering what
I am here for,
I'm tired of existing this way,
I'm tired of these chains
I wear everyday.

If I am a free temple,
then why do I feel encaged?
Encaged in my own mind
where light you won't find,
locked behind bars,
wishing on stars,
begging scars to disappear,
hoping nobody witnesses my tears.

I'd like to live in a small town
where no one knows me
deeper than my name.
I'd like to live in a small town,
living in a small house
where the kettle is always boiling
and where I might not be
so life controlling;
a town with no disasters,
an endless museum of skin
so we can watch all the flowers
break through the ice
we've brought in each other
and truly love what's within,
a town where we'd be smiling
from all the lovely things
said from all the lovely people.
And one day soon,
I might just have to roam away
to satisfy my wanderlust
before the hour of my decay.

You could say it's
all in my head,
it doesn't exist,
just a result of
a hope that persists
but,

There's got to be
something better than this..
Were humans and the world
just dropped and born
out of nowhere,
just to be dumped in eternal misery?
And if angels exist, where
do you think they live?
Not in the air or else
we'd be breathing them in constantly.

The afterlife exists
even for disbelievers,
Some call it Heaven,
some call it Hell...
What will it be?
Only dying will tell.

Today,
I just want to exist
without the burden of
a million things plummeting
on my shoulders...
I think life has driven
existence to an airport,
I think it told existence
to fly away,
and now life for living organisms
tastes like decay
and airplanes feel like
a death sentence;
not even up above the clouds
can you find peace;
gunfire and chemicals will still
find you even when you are
10 thousand feet in the air...
Today, I just want to exist
without the burden of fighting
for my own survival
but how could we possibly think
that a ceiling alone could protect us?


- Crimsyy

I don't want to write poetry.
I want to rip apart my brain
and feed it to my thoughts of decay.
I do not want to think of you,
because it is evidently clear
that you cannot be a constant,
So I shall extract you
(and all the thoughts, words,
and phrases too)
from my mind.
You may not enter this home,
I locked you out long ago.
Your little petty games
did you no favours,
tied tight to immaturity,
it looked too much like
not committed,
so I sent it all away from me.
In this case, not knowing no grey
is an advantage,
I would rather not choose to
sedate my appetite with your
little crumbs of "love"
(good morning, how are you?
every birthday).
It may take years but I won't forget
that I am not in the business
of decomposing yet.

She won't like
what I've got to say,
Well, should have
behaved a better way,
now I'm here,
feeling my best
and I have no regrets,
tell the girl bye
because I won't cry.

I'm unapologetic,
her act, so pathetic,
she messed with a bad *****,
turned apathetic I'm
moving on to ****,
unapologetic.

And now she better
walk that other way,
better have nothing to say,
the tables have turned,
left her to burn.
You better walk that other way,
because there's nothing
left to salvage,
you messed with a savage *****
and I won't be
providing no bandage,
I've moved on, unapologetic.

- Crimsyy

**A/N: This is what occurs when someone messes with a savage poet. Here's a hint: you won't get away with it. Thankyou for reading! What do you think of this poem?

We all have our secret hideaways, we all have our cures, and our bandage solutions, and we all have addictions.

You will eat to fill the hollow kindly provided by someone who's left you lying in bed at night, wondering why you weren't good enough, or maybe even just enough, to make them stay.

We all carry earbuds...more like soulbuds. Hello music, goodbye world, goodbye sorrow. We all break down, no matter how hard we hide it, no matter how well we can disguise it...eyes can't lie, but they sure can act.

And we all try to bandage our wounds, though we're the worst doctors. I puke smiles, you puke smiles, we ALL puke smiles...

but no one's meant them for a while.

A cigarette that promises
to satisfy but turns to ash,

A nicotine addiction that
promises to be harmless
but inflicts damage,

Lungs that promise to help you breathe
but leave you gasping for air,

An "I'll always be here" that
"is never there"

A gardener that never waters his rose,
and so the rose dies without proper care.

A conversation**

I want to safety pin
your broken parts on mine
and make a mosaic,
Oh baby, it's only a
matter of time.

You're my captor,
no need to ask;
You have my heart.
Him say  "Do you love me?"
I say "Is the sky blue?"
Baby I suffer chronic
stockholm syndrome
whenever I'm with you.

I want to break free of your hold
but then I feel you sedate me.
You watch as my heart stutters and folds,
I feel you overtake me.

I fear they will not know what this means,
they'll keep me under their sockets,
barely worth trespassing into their dreams,
I'll learn to keep you in a locket.

I fear falling quiet;
have the years not taught me?
I fear your bipolar climate;
one day you'll strangle me,
I'll stutter through your riot
and starve you with the waves of the sea.

Did you drop into existence,
light as a feather,
or did you make the world implode
with your erupting presence?
300 million years ago,
animal but human,
human and needy,
riding on backs of giants
to travel to farwaway places,
and then soaring...

Extracting anger and desperation,
tying yourself tight to an image of hope,
to an image of transformation,
so we humans can only desire
to be worthy of your donation...

Nothing flusters you,
and even though your wings
are both blue,
there is nothing sad about you.

You tuck away the empty chasms
of a soul made to feel too old,
made to feel that it should not
aspire to be the sun,
but merely its shadow...
and you paint their
switched off, tired eyes
with ineffable hues of strength.

Dragonfly, you show me
that through your years,
you've cried and you
fought your battles and
some old parts of you died...
and you showed me that
rebirth and imperfection
aren't missing but whole,
that mess isn't haunted
or unwanted but needed
for exploration...

If every particle of ours,  every chemical
that went into a single thought
could be stored away in its designed,
picturesque room,
how could we claim to be mysteries?

Dragonfly, now it's my turn
to give away my pieces of decay,
let them burn.
You are expectedly lingering at my window,
you've always been,
and I'll no longer keep you waiting.

Nicotine

All these useless words
I'm using for you
are the bandaids
that soothe my wounds
when you aren't there
to make me feel as if
my breath will never cease to be
and my heart will never wish
to cease its beat beat beat.

Lately, I've taken the form of
anticipation,
but you know I'm
not very patient,
and my anticipation is
in need of liberation.
Darling, when we meet again,
I will lose it all,
forget my sanity;
I will *smother
smother smother
you in love.

- Crimsyy

**A/N: Thankyou for reading!  Please leave a comment of what you think about this poem...your comments mean a lot to me ^.^ Also, for this poem, I left some punctuation out on purpose.

No I don't care
if I'm being selfish here,
but I need you to
stick by me.
No, I don't mean to steal your time
but from now on,
all your time is mine,
all your strength is mine.
I've dug a hole, just for you,
It's up to you to refill it
either with dirt, myself
or all the scars that once hurt.
Love,
Anti.

Phenols*

Your heart was always empty
and I was full of self sacrifice,
so I tried to give your heart substance
with all my deepest love.

I poured and poured,
with pain I wrestled
before realizing I was pouring
myself into a stubbornly empty vessel.

You could have just told me
you didn't want any part of me
and not left it too late,
with pieces of me floating about
in a heartless man.

I'm selfish because i care
And what's mine is not to be shared
I'll envelop you in a love so rare
I'll colour outside the lines
just to make sure you'll always
remain only mine.

I'm selfish
so love me or despise me
Either way, you'll think about me
And i don't think you'll
ever be able to comprehend
my possessive tendencies;

tell me, despite my irritable ways
can you make out the meaning
of an I-I- I love you?



**A/N: Thankyou for reading! Even flaws and "irritable ways" can have a good meaning behind them. Please comment what you think of this one ^.^

I want to explode
like the light of a thousand suns,
and I want you to be brave enough
to risk going blind and look at me.

See the love I've kept for you,
Broken boy meets broken girl
and you'd think you'd know
how that would go,

But broken boy lies to broken girl
and a life ends in this world.

**"Love" can ****.

Your name tastes sour
in my mouth,
I should be breathing you in,
but I want to spit you out,
cause I'm just an afterthought,
an occasional roundabout.

You surround me
but never close enough,
we keep arguing in circles
and I've had too much

Sick of nursing
this brick in my chest,
wonder why I haven't left yet,
sick of feeding
the doubts in my head,
I think you'll be my next regret.

You let snowflakes
fall on my tongue,
am I supposed to
think that's sweet,
when your love is built
on nothing concrete
and you seem to be
a one end street?

You seem to be one for the road,
but you still haunt my sleep
and so while I toss
and turn for you,
your mind is devoid of me.

She stands in the kitchen,
while I slice her flesh away,
eroding a parasite, she's
the perfect picture of decay,
I'm birthing something new,
extracting the real me
from my sinews,
I've killed the girl you knew,
It looks like she's
psychopathic like me too.

Love,
Anti.

Toluene*

If I decide to unpack all
my belongings in your arms,
would you let me stay?
Would you still be as mesmeric
as you were when you believed
people were temporary?
Would you let me live
inside your skin?
Because I can't tell where
rapture ends and abstinence begins.

In the middle of nowhere
is where I'd like to be,
clouds for a roof,
enveloped by trees,
driving into infinity
far, far away
from everyone and everything,
fleeing the persecution
of my mind,
here at least I know
my only purpose
is to breathe
and I shall write thoughtless verses
take me somewhere thoughts
cease to be.

Tar*

I was never yours
this was never meant to be,
you never truly wanted me,
I was just your plan B,
only good when you needed me.

Remember the lunches I bought?
Remember the fights I fought,
the times my motives were almost caught?
All to please you and keep you by my side,
only to show that friends stick by.

And now that I've stripped you
from all your power,
I face the unbelieving expression
of your hardworking, single mother
And I used to stare at the ground,

Afraid to paint a frown in the city,
but now I'll stare you down,
beg please, with the words you're
wasting on deaf ears,
dress me in graffiti.

"There is a lack of redamancy, you haven't let me open my mouth for at least a month. You had a lot to purge out, I guess. I want to tell you I love you, more than he ever will, I want to tell you I'm a part of you, more than he'll ever be. You are superlunary, I don't compare to you. But please remind yourself, I'm keeping you alive, though I am not God. But in a sense, I'm locking you here on Earth, I reside in your gut, I am the reason you're not giving up. All those plans and checked off to do lists, all those goals and visions...we make them just so we've got multiple anchors to make sure we do not sink. Every substance we use, every material, is a little helper: "you should stay alive because of this." Though my tendency is to hate, I have no hate to spill. Only admiration of how far you have come, of how much you have stripped me of any malice I contained. I came in hungry, ready to devour you, but you tamed my jaw with thorns you've watered for too long, and oh darling, I beg you to stay strong."

- Anti

Hydrogen Cyanide*

I have no idea how it feels
to receive what I deserve from you,
no memory,
only faded dreams.

Seething over what I was denied,
I became ill from your heavy,
searing dose of
hydrogen cyanide,

And life lost its meaning
because I never learned
to pour this love I carry inside
all over myself.

I don't know who
the next me will be,
what skin she'll be wearing,
whether she will learn to surf the waves
and not just dip her feet in them.

Will this be the year
she finally looks anxiety in
the eye and says
"You will not stop me?"
Will it be the year she finally
looks suicide in the eye and says
"You will not take me?"

My youth and her youth is slipping away
behind signatures and steering wheels,
behind money and percentages,
but these don't define her or me...

If she'll believe in herself,
throw herself into life's ride
and breathe, then she will be okay,
but if she is the harshest critic,
the most high of all perfectionists,
she might struggle.

I want to tell her that breathing
is the most beautiful thing she could
specialize in during her beautiful existence,
I want to tell her to not be terrified of the night,
and whatever lurks behind her eyelids,
It's just a dream girl, nothing more.

I want to tell her imperfection is beautiful,
I want to tell her to commit so
her life can be wonderful,
I want to tell her she wasn't raised
to howl over anyone,
I want to tell her: let them love you,
and let them leave you,
Let them hold you but
don't ever let them break you.

What I Meant:

cue tumblr poem prompt

What I meant
the last time I said
"I love you":
  

You are destroying me
but I'm letting you,
You are a fire and
your arms around me
make my thoughts scream

This is not
just an impulse
not just a match
I'm lighting up,
This type of love
will never burn out
no matter how
many times
our lips will be
coated in ash.

I would rather decompose
than leave you,
so cover me
in a veil of your flames.

- Crimsyy

In my chest resides a heavy weight,
rage and pain stir as I contemplate
if you're worth the ache
I've been feeling these last few days

I yearn for a taste of you
and yet I just want you to leave
so this pain may cease

And in the heat of my own hate
I can feel myself suffocate
Loving you and leaving you
are just the same,
different phrases
with the same name

But never will you reduce me
to be completely desperate for you
never will I plead on my knees
for the return of
someone who never learns.
My anger you cannot sedate
and when you'll crave my forgiveness
It might just be too late.

I don't want that sinking feeling,
I don't want to fall apart,
but I'm ready, I guess
for this ride; I've
buckled up my heart.

Mind-cuffed, yet I
thought of you
and your one-sided-ness,
don't you know
for love you need conversation and
conversations work in two?

I will throw you shade
so you can burn,
we won't die from all
their camera-eyes;
I never fell in love with and
in the moment;
I fell inlove in the exact hour
my smile turned sour
because of you.

My blood's gone blue,
and my hair might be wild,
but you're still dealing
with an inexperienced child;

I wasn't told a soul
could become so cold,
you have a beautiful face
but nothing as nice to say,
and I have a mouth that screams
"I love you" in **bold.

Nicotine

When I'm with you,
I'm overcome with temptation
to release onto you
all my lamentations,
but I don't want to be
an extra weight on your mind,
I know how hard it is
to lift yourself up sometimes.

Because sometimes you
are the heaviest thing in the world,
and the world doesn't
understand that,
blaming triggers,
applying bandaids to wounds
that'll bleed long after the
bandaid's ripped off.

We're both hemophiliacs
drowning in breathtaking chemicals,
in our bones, fragility seeping,
our skin continuously bleeding.
But you and I
are more than this,
more than a shortage of bliss.
We're the passion felt
through a tender kiss,
We're addictive,
like the magnetic pull
of your lips.

I hope you know
sometimes I have to
force the monster out of me
to escape life's bitter bite,
but she loves you just the same,
and I hope you know that
in her, you summone the light.
And when she's with you,
she's overcome with temptation
to release onto you
all her lamentations,
and everytime,
you feel so safe,
she almost does,
she almost does.

*Thankyou for reading! Please comment your thoughts on this one and your favourite part/line and why it's your favourite. ^.^ Your comments make my days.

You never closed your eyes
when you leaned in to kiss me,
You never wanted to truly feel
because you knew how much
I could destroy you eventually
I could envelope you in flames
with the passion in my bones,
passion long dead for you now,
Metaphorically, I can't stand you,
Literally, I don't know what I'll do...
This, for you and for them,
is a teenage pseudo love,
a fire not bright enough to
be called a fire,
a forest not thick enough
to be considered a forest,
just a teenage wannabe love,
teenage wreckage love,
teenage - this'll end in tears - love,
teenage - first time - love.
We will break and we will fall,
and I will feel my heart twist bit by bit
while you will be the
perfect picture of indifference,
but at least I'll birth new poetry.

Nicotine*

I have seen rapture come
in the shape of the person I love,
in his arms,
in his mischievous eyes,
but rapture is only ecstasy
and ecstasy will eventually
fade into habit and
this fictional fairytale won't
seem so sparkling anymore;
glass loses its luster once the
sun goes away
and fragility is all that remains.
It's up to us to dig through
years of pent up baggage and
discover love in each other's rust.

You'll pick on all my flaws
(Tonight, I felt selfish ambition)
"Fragile", it never meant "weak"
(Anger clouded my vision)
I fight you with shaky hands
and inelastic lungs,
(My mind alone could
cause our collision),
You've chosen my skin,
my skin, my skin as your prey,
but your blades only
reach surface deep,
(Resisting you is my religion)
and contrary to common belief,
I'm not praying for eternal sleep.


- Crimsyy

The sequel to "Heavenly"

The rest of us
will decompose here,
but now you have purpose,
the muse behind my verses,
forget fairytale curses;
you* will never die,

So place me underground,
darling you will still be
safe and sound,
up above from here
I see who you are,
but they are all below,
below your worthiness,
dainty star,

On the eve of the day
when I'm mourned by the fakes,
they'll be praying for my amazing grace,
but it'll be too late,

There's no spot in a dead heart
for those who tore it apart,
and my monsters will cover your
sunshine and they'll **** your spark,
I'll wish I could be there,
Ten thousand tears wait to be spared,
I promise I cared,
I just never shared
all my hurtings, and now
they've killed me,

I will beg to have you released,
I'll beg on my knees for
all the darkness to leave you
and entertain *me,
But I'm afraid to fully dive,
Don't know how far I could drive,
Metaphorically, I'm at the shore
I don't know what I'm drowning for.