Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Fuz Jan 2014
"What are you waiting for?"
"Do it"
"Pull the trigger"

I am not sick
But my mind burns like fire
Contemplating the littlest things in life
Cold metal pressed to my temple
Trying to chill my mind
I have no control over it
As it runs a little to wild
A little to free
Hope that I can someday get a grip on my own thoughts
Keeps me from painting a portrait of my mind on my wall

But how long can one hope?
Fuz Jan 2014
All I can compare you to is a cigarette
I know with every drag I take
I come a little closer to death
And I love every drag I take
I love knowing that I'm okay with it,
Okay with you killing me slowly
I can't shake my addiction
Even if it in the end it means death
I am destine to die with or with out your help
In painful memory of your cold soul
I ignite the flame
And put fire to my death
And take yet another drag
Waiting for it to **** me
One after another,
Chain smoking to speed up the process
Hoping that death is a happier place
Than being alive and alone
Fuz Jan 2014
To live a life of love you must not put
Put materials above priorities 
Just because something is beautiful 
Does not mean you must own that 
Beauty
For example a rose, symbolic for it's
Beauty
From it's perfect blood red petals, to
The blood drawing thorns on the stem of it's beauty
You don't rush in and grab the rose or you will be physically injured by it's natural defense using thorns
You can carefully clip the rose avoiding physical pain, but the rose will die eventually causing great emotional pain
In order to fully enjoy the beauty if the rose you must accept that it is where it is and can't not easily be moved, 
So you must yourself become a rose,
Plant yourself next to what you believe is beautiful and you shall live a beautiful and pure life
Fuz Jan 2014
Is the world deaf?
Or am I a mute?
Maybe the world is mute
And I my self am deaf
As I scream out for help
I get no answers
Can you hear my screams?
Is it simple miscommunication?
Or are you okay with watching me suffer?

— The End —