I make lists
to organize my life into lines
on a page
some lists are for groceries
others for wishes
I make lists of "to do's"
for the satisfaction of crossing them off
I scribble thoughts onto paper in the late hours of the night
I make lots of lists
of things I'm grateful for
of goals still awaiting their accomplishment

to remind myself I exist

I guess it's also a form of obsessive compulsiveness
that comes with not knowing who you are
or being unsure of where you're going
I make lists
to slowly, deliberately, write myself into a person

Her mother pushed religious ******* down her throat
But she refused to listen
Her mother pulled her hair and took away her hope
But she had accepted long ago her mothers love had conditions
Her mother always let her get caught in the crossfire of her anger
But she just locked herself in her room to forget
Her mother constantly called her a failure
But she didn't need her mother to remind her of her regrets
Her mother was fed up with her passive aggressive behavior
But she knew she deserved better than this neglect
Her mother always yelled at her for never talking
And she let hollow silence be her reply
It wasn't until her mother said "You should **** yourself."
That she happily complied

Crystallised syllables.
Words fall from harsh tainted lips,
like a syllable of crystallised black,
Caressed at the touch of fingertips,
encouragement seems to lack.

A heart of steel encased within,
the shattered depicted glass,
I pray that you forgive my sin,
End this forever song fast.

Your life is plainly satisfactory,
demeaning in all you do,
waterfalls of crimson refractory
broken, diminished, by you.

Wicked and nocturnal eyes,
return your weary gaze,
reflections hard to visualise,
incentives gone for days.

Leave emotion to drown itself,
in this scarlet river abyss,
place your feelings on the shelf,
and give me one last kiss…

I made a comment about jumping off a building the other day
And you looked at me and said "You shouldn't joke about suicide."
And I completely agreed, suicide is not a joke
But little did you know, I wasn't joking
And even though I smiled as I said it,
I silently begged you to see behind it
And pull me far, far away from the edge
Before I fell where no one could reach me
Because their is a huge difference between wanting to die
And wanting to **** yourself
It can make the difference between life and death
And I'm afraid I've gotten to the point
That I might just want both

I
   fell
       into
           falling
                and
                      I
                         can't
                               stop
                                    descending...

Falling is a momentum;
the faster you go the more you gain.
Once it starts,
it will continue to accumulate.
And you can never accrue too much,
too much failure.
To fail to succeed,
makes success a failure.
Therefore you fell into falling,
once again.