I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but I feel like an abandoned
collector's case left in a corner
to rot or do as I please without
so much but the guidance of the wind.

But the wind is not stable
and therefore neither am I,
I cannot tell whether I'm
imagining this all or
seeing it with my very eyes.
Reality and fantasy have
merged into one and
I can no longer tell the difference
between a dream or everyone's nightmare;
I die in both.

I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but if my soul's exterior had any texture,
right now it'd be peeling;
no it is not beautiful and it
cannot make fake roses
like an orange peel might.
There are no flowers here,
only a garden of late nights and tears.

Outside, spring is evolving
Inside, my lungs are decomposing.
I do not know what I am feeling,
I do not know what I am feeling,
but I feel like an abandoned collector's
case left in a corner;
I am a case long closed ,
given up on and
I am collecting dust.

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.

If I wrote you a letter,
would you read it?
Would you see how
my love for you has scattered?
For I can only write you
my hateful letters,
where a single word
screams in abuse,
and maybe it might strike
your heart in a way
that makes you want to die...

If I wrote you a letter,
would you surrender,
and scream in submission,
bow down in admission?
If I wrote you a letter,
would you mistake
a knife for an eraser?
Because I did,
and you never wrote me a syllable...

I will not prove you right,
I am not in need of you.
You inspire me
like a gone mind
inspires a gun;

Now I'm grown,
Now my skin's thicker;
I will not dig my own grave
because you chose to pull the trigger.
So, if I wrote you a letter,
you still wouldn't matter
to me.

6 minutes to 12 am,
I'm your prisoner again,
my breath stains the windows
of this house,
this house is asleep.

Won't awaken to my needs,
Won't keep me full,
my soul needs a feed,
Cannot differentiate
my happiness from my sadness
both are equally opposites extremes.

This is nothing permanent,
Just my mind gone funny,
drained from the ways
I spent my day,
I have this tendency to
take a step forward and leap
and keep running from
what my mind binds me to,
I don't want to feel for you,
I don't want to feel for anyone anymore.
If you leave, at least
shut the ******* door.

I clothe myself in
memories of you;
They're all hanging in my closet
my closet, my clothes, my bones
Yet somehow the coats that
once belonged to me no longer
block out the chill in my heart.

But my paper heart is stubborn,
It never learns,
It plays with lit matches
then cries when it's burned.

I struggle among the rubble
my own chaos caused,
a victim of a disguised disaster
and there is nothing natural about it...

Self destruction goes against
 **nature's laws.

I want to place my head
on your chest and
feel your heart race forever.

- Crimsyy♡


Something I did yesterday (26/9/16)..
and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. Some things and some people are worth staying alive for.

I'm basking in the absence
of sadness,
Moved on so quickly,
I'm done with your messes.
I gave you chances
from the start,
and you wrecked them all
until the end.

10 thousand tears I was
never going to waste on you,
why should I have been
sad over you?
You made it clear,
hence I disappeared.

And now there's
a clearer view,
and now without you
I can see me,
and now without you
I don't need to think
of all the plans you devised
and all the ill advice.
I know you tried
to pull me away,
but with her I'll stay.

Your eyes looked like
you'd never want to leave,
Your hands seemed to be
crafting something beautiful,
something, something
like the breath of a shadow,
the hope you'd decide to stay,
but now it is me, not you
that wants to roam away.

Why have you not left yet?
I've heard that when you
combine my fading heartbeat
with the tears parading down my face,
a haunting melody is produced...
I swear to God, it's your favourite song
and you keep abusing the replay button,
but you still don't know me.

The heart inhabiting my chest
is not my own,
I'm sorry but it had to be done,
I can't love you darling,
I've borrowed someone else's heart,
traded my softness for something
twice as hard.

I'm dry right now,
no tears are left
but you still make me fall
and you still tighten up my chest.
It feels un-natural;
how I've fallen but feel
nothing yet.
My bones ache for your embrace,
but you're a broken skeleton,
you cannot hold me,
you cannot hold a commitment
or even a conversation.
I can't remember the last time
I heard you speak.
The last time might've been
the first time,
I don't know what
there is to miss.
I'll turn a blind eye when
gasoline tempts me,
my carelessness will be my bliss.
You're wrapped in indifference
and you will not unfold for me
because you couldn't care less,
indifferent to a lifetime of
armless hugs;
the walls of your skull
have never memorized
my first heartbeat
because no one ever taught you how to try,
and I don't want your presence
to be my neighbour,
because your love
feels like forced labour.

- Crimsyy

A/N: Thankyou so much for reading! What are your thoughts on this one?

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.

"Who would love such a
toxic conundrum?"
I whispered in the early
hours of my existence,
starting as a lukewarm
substance,
gazing into my pristine heart,
my empty core.

Then the fate of life saw to it;
to stain my skin and give
my emptiness a name;
Hurt,
no.
Ignition, match,
or maybe their hands.

I can't tell when those things
had a distinct identity
and didn't just seem to be
my heart twisting and
my core splitting,
soaked in chemicals,
all mixing.

There are cigarette lighters
everywhere you turn,
they look like brown eyes,
rough hands and vinyl collectors.
But I realize I am something
to be inhaled;
choose dying over pleasure,
give me your utmost devotion,
touch me as I burn.

My name's Anti and I crave
the dark side of a day,
I'm insecure and
sometimes I can't define what I think,
I push people away,
I've gotten so huge,
my victim sees a shrink.
I won't be tamed by pills,
a substance holds no power
over a force that kills;
sure, I'm prone to blind infatuation,
extreme heart palpitations,
but has no one ever told you
of my evergreen determination?

you would have
liked me shallow
thoughts like dipping only
half a foot in the ocean
thoughts like simple
one sentence answers

you would have
liked me normal,
seeing black for black,
grey for grey

(on second thought,
grey is probably
just a darker shade of white)

you would have liked my soul
just as dull as you
but i'm a spark of colour
in a monochrome set of walls,
i am green life in
a concrete jungle

you would have liked
our discussions
to not even be discussion,
just small talk
half-assed thoughts,
lukewarm effort

but poets just don't think
like that.

our minds are
more like trees,
branching out in every
possible direction
landing on the moon and
settling for the stars
when we don't.

a/n: thankyou so much for reading! here's to the poets and to the few people that aren't shallow-minded.

You are all as loud as
a vaccum cleaner,
The living room's a refrigerator
and my room's a heater.

And he,
He is my safety zone,
a smell of his cologne
and I know I'm not alone,
I cannot name the feeling in a rhyme,
I guess it feels like erasing bad times.

Why'd you decide to get
annoying and inquisitive
when I'm high on love?
Why'd you push my buttons
when I'm on a high, love?

When I'm sporting that
love drunk smile,
just leave me alone for a while,
it takes time for an
overdose to sink in,
meanwhile, just trust that
I'm living from within.

I'm an expert of this artifice,
A trickery, a disguise,
to let this mask remain
is a mental sacrifice.

I hide away every flaw,
taint my face with happiness,
it is a ruse
I over use, over abuse,
a bloodstream curse.

And so I keep them coming,
like my sanity isn't running,
I keep them there, under my nose,
won't let no one glimpse my woes

I puke smiles
but are they real?
I puke smiles
but is smiley how I feel?
Nobody willing to investigate,

I puke smiles
just to conceal,
I puke smiles;
they're your "happy" meal
and they're never up for debate.

Sometimes, I wish
I was as deep as the surface -
only what you see in front of you.
It bothers me that when
people look into my eyes,
they don't see pupils
enveloped by blue,
they become mesmerized
and tell me they can see the ocean
and they're **** right;
in my soul there is an ocean
of threatening commotion,
but I wish it weren't visible
by simply looking at me.

I wish people would not tell me
that I am an open book
because I know that
I am the complete opposite;
what I tell you is just
scratching the protective walls
I immerse myself in,

Don't dare tell me you can read me
when my mind speaks in
linguistic hieroglyphs
not even I comprehend at times,
let alone you, a complete stranger.

I want to feed on your heart
more than I want to feel your lips,
kisses don't heal bruises,
bandage solutions don't
wash away mistakes.

I have a tendency
to love what leaves,
and as I wait for rightful affection,
you've made my heart into
a mindless metronome,
one side of me head
over heels for you,
cannot think of ever leaving you,
but then once again,
12 am reminds me
of exactly why
I absolutely loathe you.

I could have devoured you,
swallowed you whole,
coated myself with
your very essence,
but, I could talk infinity
into trading its forever for
a nanosecond of you
and nothing would change;
I'm just a plan B for you.

I want to say I meant
"I love you",
you made some moments
truly magical so,
thankyou for stopping by,
but I cannot let you
place the moon in my sky.

- Crimsyy

I never liked the way
she smiled at you,
never liked the way she
hugged the corners
of every door,
never liked her clothes,
never liked her sitting so close.

I plastered a smile on my face
just for the night,
just for your night,
but that small curve
turned into a straight line.

Green's a cliché,
my eyes saw all
my pleasantness fading away.
Now won't she stay in her line?
Can't **** with what's mine.

- Crimsyy

A/N: Thankyou so much for reading! Any feedback on this?

I do not like the feeling
of the invisible seatbelt
strapping words to my chest,
still, I'm not safe yet.

I do not like the feeling of deadline
mouth shut, closed
human heart numbing,
I think I'm becoming
sad again.

I do not like the feeling of
my mind bending to work you out,
you are eating away at my heart,
silent music of my decay,

You're my poison gas;
*I do not like the feeling of missing you.

I deleted all the pictures,
if you can't be here,
I don't want you to linger,
suggesting I deserve more
but you don't deem
me important enough,
suggesting love does not know time,
suggesting love does not make time,
I know the way you are
presenting things is a lie.

The stars loved me before
I became aware of your existence,
before you taught me
an invisible way to die,
and so why would I
want to lock our moments in history
when I know life could tear us apart
because you are not
holding onto my heart?

I could hoard memories of you,
paint the sky in constellations
of your bright eyes,
but how would that be fair to me?
Your love is a lukewarm affirmation,
lacking evidence and testimony,
scarce and rare,
barely there,
and now you understand why I cannot
give you my love as a weapon
you can use to destroy me.

I might have left it too late,
too late to notice that
you occupy my heart and
without you, it'd be empty,
devoid of love,
but distancing myself from you
sounds like drowning myself
in blacker shades of blue.

And you're still living,
and you're still breathing,
and this don't sound
like the me I knew,
but then again, maybe
the me from nowadays is new,
the me from today and yesterday
will be dying tomorrow day,
but tomorrow day,
will you still hold me tight?

Oh the fear of being alone
plagues my head,
the fear of losing you
has become my shadow,
following me everywhere,
even into the dark
where shade is not
meant to be found,
my bedroom light feels like
the light of a thousand suns,
it burns my face.

God, how could i fall in so deep?
God, I cannot even speak,
God, I wish for eternal sleep,
what I seek keeps escaping me
in such cruel ways,

Baby I'm in a trance,
and my feet know
only your dance;
Please wait patiently for me
to snap out of it.

Being love drunk... the feeling of you losing control, shaking and more shaking.
Losing all control, being aware of it, and begging for more. Smiling...but not just any smile..those goofy smiles they write about in novels.
Being love drunk...if things go your way, it would be purgatory, cleansing you from all those that had burne dyou before, cleansing way your scars without the salt but with the sky's stars. Your eyes will sparkle and you'll want to skip testing the waters with one foot - you'll want to dive, even if the consequence is death - at least you'll die happy.
If things don't go your way, your roses will still bloom, but you'll need to trim away the weeds, one tear at a time. One run by the ocean at a time.
One skip of "our song" at a time.

Tonight,
I may need you to
reaffirm that I am lovely,
no it's not conceit,  see

Some souls remain so unsure
as what torments leaves
the lovely obscure

I'd gift you with my breath,
I'd live for you
and that's hard to do,
I'd gift you with my mindsight
but will you ever ignite my eyes
and let me be showered
in picturesque light?

Fill me up to the brim,
I want all your love,
Make my cup overflow,
I want all your love
or absolutely nothing.
Mum, dad,
I think I'm inlove
with a ghost,
and I'm his haunted house
He haunts me all night long,
Mum, dad,
He's taking up too much
space in my heart,
I fear he'll rip me apart
like all my anonymous notes
declaring love that would never
be given back
but that's backtrack;
here and now,
he's mine,
he's mine until I finally catch fire,
Until love expires.

Light belongs to everyone
even amongst the darkest shade of black,
now tell me, what is it
that my soul lacks?
I'd love to be illuminated
by you,
and I'd just like to say
I really admire the way
you're there when I need you
every 9 o'clock
when I stare out
the corridor window,
no matter the tone of day.
Oh Luna, these mortals
send my sanity astray
while you...you my dear
cremate my lamentations
to show me that underneath it all,
there is a bundle of paranoxisms,
beautiful and bursting,
otherwise known as *me.

Caffeine, oh won't you
awake me as you always do?
Even with effects circulating
and my mind over-contemplating,
I'll ask you to be my next move,
a mistake I won't need to soothe,
lungs taking deeper breaths,
bringing all distress to sudden death;
A bundle of rawness I inhale,
A bundle of vulnerability I exhale.

He's got a face
coloured a warm silver
everybody keeps their soul thin,
his is thicker.

He's got a closet mind,
coathanger walls
and those thoughts
*******, they're not his,
they might be mine,
I'll erase them in time.

He wears his quietness
with the shades pulled down
and I just want to
take away that frown

Cause he's got a soul
coloured a sparkling gold
everybody keeps
their soul hidden,
his is **bold.

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.

The corners of my mind
are filled with new life,
Where gunfire and silence intertwine
and happiness crawls on a knife.

Please, please
take a step inside,
witness the frozen breeze
of the monsters I've mummified.

You will find no easy path,
my mind is a complicated maze,
either peace or utter wrath
mixed with a hurricane to glaze
me as I bathe in the ash
of my self doubt blaze.


Title is French...have fun figuring it out
muahahaha.. thankyou to Kitty Ting -
**Our conversation inspired this poem.

Do you ever stop to
think about our kisses?
Are they merely just an
exchange of saliva to you?
When we kiss, everything
inside of me travels inside you.

Your mouth is a
profound curtain,
though i don't know
if it's witnessing
love at its truest
or a cruel lie disguised
as intimate affection,
but nevertheless,
my mouth lingers on yours
like a leech
as if saliva is now blood,
and as if you are now
my bloodstream.

It's my birthday! Turned 17 today ^.^

Goes as follows:

Letting stupidity and
unrequited emotions make me cry,
Hating the numbers on the scale,
Hating myself for eating chocolate,
getting too attached too quickly.

I am not in the business of
getting too close,
so I do not know why I mean to say "No"
but what comes out is too much affection.
You. Thinking of you, keeping memories of you, I'll crush you, I'll leave you
with a permanent ****** imprint of blue.

I'll learn to not get too near,
I'll learn to discard of my souvenirs,
I'll learn to give myself
all this wonderful love
I am so capable of giving to you,

But until then,
hand cuff me and
keep me behind the bars of growth.

It is a mess -
But it's MY mess.
That makes it valid,
it gives this mess a purpose...
Even walls get lonely when
they have been too bare for too long.
Don't you get lonely too?
Putting everything in its place,
folding your days away with your
perfect, delicate hands,
don't you wish you could live?
Yes, there is such a thing
as living outside of
perfectly folded napkins,
perfectly sparkling doors,
so much urge and
want for perfection,
it makes me want to puke
all over your perfectly shining floor.
Have you ever considered that
sometimes more is less?
A mess to you
is not a mess to me,
my mess ain't there to serve you
my mess is there to serve me.

You are winter
and I always fall for you,
as Autumn does
when rain comes knocking
on its leaves
and soon Autumn and I
are lost in a breath of
fresh petrichor;
you are rain
and for some unknown reason,
I'm always begging you
to drench me, soak me.
You are a notebook,
often closed,
spine seemingly unbroken,
and I, a starving poet
ripping at every page of yours;
I hope you won't
fall apart with me.

Like oil in my throat
you burn me,
I'm your comfort food
so consume me
until you're fine again.

Tug on my breath
just when you're out of it,
Your intentions I've undressed,
Your disguise is naked now,
Save yourself somehow.

I've learned to pull out the plug
when enough is enough,
because flesh and minds
sometimes are too much,
I know you've realized it now
but it's too late
and there's no going back,
no erasing mistakes.

I could wipe your slate clean
but I'm caught in
a mess you made,
torn between which side to take
and which one to forsake,

and now your face is
turning red from rage or regret,
because I won't choke on
the words I said,

and someone will miss you,
someone will miss you,
someone will miss you,
but that someone isn't me.

- Crimsyy

A/N: Thankyou so much for reading! The moral of this one is - actually, I'll let you work that out ;) What do you think of this one?

Methanol*

I was a bandage
which you ripped off
as soon as your wounds
were healed,
because I was loyal
and what a mistake that was
because I can't be anything else,
except what lies on
the opposite end of the spectrum;
completely detached and indifferent.

Maddening methanol,
blinding me with your impurity,
but now I see
what a fraud you were.

"Losing" you didn't injure me,
your absence didn't sink
its teeth into me;
you were sour as
sudden abandonment,
I was more than glad
to be rid of *you.

I watch how much ink
it is taking
to immortalize every inch of you,
I see my pens are wasting,
but I purge the contents of
my heart out for you.

Love is morphine for
the hole in our hearts,
do you notice how
light love feels when you
ignore the dark?
Love is morphine for
all our broken parts;

Capsize me, and
somehow,  I'll be
*less dizzy.

Nicotine*

It was only supposed to be
a tiny, miniscule taste
but love had other ideas.
You are a cloudless sky
in my clouded mind,
In the end, I'm always
craving you.

You ever get that feeling that repeats,
like abstinence from nicotine?
You ever get that feeling of
wanting to be
numbed into bliss,
risking narrowed veins and arteries
for just one mind-silencing kiss?

I'll let passion sear my heart
and won't hear what my insecurities
love to whisper into my abused ears;
I can polarize what's blurred
and what's clear.