look how restlessly tired i am
so nervously calm i am
uncomfortably peaceful i am
and yet i sit here with a shooting pain to my stomach and a sore *** from sitting to long from travelling to far
when can i stop?
when will i stop?
if i stop…
could i continue to the new side of the same wall i’ve looked at?
there is no epiphany
there is no afterthought
it’s the same wall i’ve looked at with a different view from the other side.
nothing is different
nothing is replaced
please stop it’s stays on there
everyone will see it eventually
please i’m begging you it’s okay
it’s okay to cry
it hurts me so much
promise me you’ll stop please
i’ll hold you
i can do that just
please stop it not going to get better like that
your choosing a harmful path
it’s so bad and damaging
please come back
i can hold you
it will be fine
just stay with me please
i can’t bare it
i like you
like really like you
i love you even
love me back
i had no turmoil
i simply didn’t sleep well
for those dreams waiting
A Beast has emerged
from the dark depths of
New horns every tuesdays and new languages every thursdays
Angry at the world they
have submerged themselves
Angry at their passerby dwellers
They claim what they are not
and not claimed to be so
instead they say they are one thing and one thing they are
Unpredictable and unruly they be
but understanding and caring that they will as pleased
they are all soft to the core of one were to speak to them (or so I have learned)
They all want to be loved, to be cared for and to be
legit just about teens being teens lol <3
imagine yourself stuck in mud.
Not the kind in the woodlands but the kind by the seaside that leads far out among the shoreline.
Now imagine you’re stuck in this tough mousse like mud and you’re knee deep in it.
but you don’t want to really move from it but more wait for something to happen. but you’ve seen it before it just came back
differently and in another form.
can you imagine this?
Now imagine it for nearly a whole week,
tough isn’t it?
how about a whole month or maybe even for a whole year?
Now imagine this for the rest of your life.
Sometimes you’ll see something you’ll like and other times you won’t.
But most of the time you’ll still be stuck.
and in the survival mode for a long, long time.
that takes up a lot energy to use.
and it can get all over the place and make no sense for you so stop and just accept it.
So you just stop and accept the waves slowly
forming around as
you’re stuck knee deep in the
seaside mud and
you let it happen.
because you’ve gone past the point of caring
whether the waves will
come back again because
you see they always
do and you can’t stop it
not like Caligula did
as he whipped at it relentlessly
for his drive of anger was for Poseidon
All you have now is,
is this sinking muddy
terrain with the sea
rolling in and out,
dusk til dawn,
Hot till cold,
But you always understood
Why this were to happen for
the sake of the moon rolling in the tides and pulling them
back out as if it were
as you are stuck stranded
on the sandy muddy horizon
With no one but your lonely self
if you were to see this written you’ll understand it a bit more, but this i the best i could do <3
It was the numbing kind of feeling
the feeling you get when the senses in your limbs when they’ve been starved of blood or oxygen
The kind where it prickles whenever you move
It was the kind of sensation
ghat was felt throughout the whole body
Not in one spot
Not in the general area
but so, like
it was everywhere
it felt like your whole body
was imploding with too little oxygen
But you don’t scream
Nor a whisper will
pass your lips
just the shear horror
at why you even reacted at all….
wrote this whilst having a panic attack <3
The blade against my skin was
tempting in a way that was
flirtatious and teasing
The blade pressed on my skin
felt so smooth, so clean, so close
to piercing through
A barrier I’d never thought to break
The blade upon my skin
touch a nerve
that i didn’t have to explore
as i roamed it before
The blade’s sharpness on my skin
just scratching the surface
begging to feel deeper inside me
to feel the warmth I never saved
The blade dripping in wealth
which I never shared
not even to myself
But I let it all bleed out
The blade i gripped to my skin
never felt colder than the hand
I held to myself
To be accountable for a crime I committed