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  Feb 2015 halfheartedsoul
namii
“Can you state your emergency?”
“There’s been a lung collision.”

He’s stealing your breath, darling I can’t feel your lungs
What an aberration, forced to bleed the river of an emotion
You were never taught to feel growing up
I think nobody told you how to feel a colour so hard
Crimson on your neck, on your chest
But I cannot find a wound
Your breath feels like knives
But it’s funny, you’re dying

You’re trying to tell me something
It sounds like the kind of thing you would say right at sunset
Slurring your sevens like you have mints on your tongue
But you are only gasping for air

Marble gazes
Your eyes are lolling back
They are the same eyes that have cut through me
The same eyes I’ve always thought were beautiful
When you were sad

You are weak and you are failing
Completely unlike the times
You would walk in like a sandstorm
No less powerful than a serpent
Beautiful

Now you are trying to speak
“Feels like a fishbone dislodged in my lungs”
And you laugh
You are laughing and you are dying
And this night still feels like day

I tried scraping out the difference
Between guilt and self-loathe
But the answer only lies on the blade of this knife
Maybe I could tell you I don’t know what I did with it
The reason we are not sure from which wound
This blood is seeping from

It wasn't just a lung collision
It was the explosion of a galaxy in your chest
When your ribs bent and cracked
Now they are broken, dust
You are breathing in rust
But it does not matter because you are dying

In the distance there is the sound of sirens
They are coming and they might be far too late.
halfheartedsoul Jan 2015
Maybe one day you'd know,
How much those words,
Spoken with or without intent,
Jesting or testing,
How much it hurt,
How much I had to withhold
How much I hate myself for it,
How much tears I shed,
How long I took to regain composure,
How easily I cracked.

Yet you're not even a friend,
Merely an acquaintance.

Because of the semblance of truth,
Because of that tiny hope of acceptance,
Because of who they said you are,
Because it was rubbing palm after palm
of salt into my raw wound.

Yet you didn't know,
How much it hurt then,
And how I changed now,
And I still hate myself,
For giving a ****,
with words spoken with such ease.
Because you don't know of the hell a person lives in, be careful of what you say. You might just make someone's hell so much more blisteringly hot.
halfheartedsoul Jan 2015
I want to dig out this beating heart
with my palm and dig my fingernails into it,
squeezing till its unrecognisable,
and see blood overflowing on my skin,
the contrast of the thick red liquid against paleness,
and feel the physical sensation it'd cause,
a painful kind of release,
of a different kind of ecstasy.
Sometimes, when things go wrong, crawling into a hole doesn't seem enough. Anger, anger at self can be such an ugly feeling.
halfheartedsoul Jan 2015
Built up tears,
A dam released,
Violent movements,
Punching bags.

And all at once,
It liberated itself
Of its confining chains.

Alone,
An empty house,
All that movement in still air,
Very much hoping to be heard.

And the irony
of not knowing how to explain.

Harsh tears,
Ripped heart,
A voice made coarse,
Anger,
Frustration,
Fused a total meltdown.

An agonising cry,
Desparate movements replay
On days when feelings numb down,
And a hole widens from deep within,
Projecting from an empty shell,
Onto a vastly absent world.

All the kicking,
The punching,
Sore knuckles,
Aching knees,
Swollen eyes,
Dripping sweat,
An utterly spent heart.

And a hot scalding bath later,
An hour or so,
When souls filled a place called home,
It was as though nothing ever happened,
Simply a day well spent,
Rather eventful.
halfheartedsoul Jan 2015
I fight the night,
Fear in my chest.

I fight the day,
Head throbbing,
Eyes barely open.

I fight the world,
Will weakened,
Shying from wandering eyes.

A heart darkened like mine,
With eyes darting back and forth,
Speech speedy and mumbled.

I worry what I look like in another's eyes.

I worry of actions taken,
Of those that can't be undone.

Yet in so many ways,
I couldn't move an inch
To show it,
To make a difference.

Wrap me up my love,
Powder my face and
Unleash this crippled soul
into the depths of the dark ocean.
halfheartedsoul Jan 2015
I can shout to the world,
A hundred times over
That I deserve better.

Yet how can I,
When I don't believe it either.
halfheartedsoul Jan 2015
Through the hectic buzz,
a moment of calm breezes by;
a teen utterly possessed with fatigue.

It was then that demons surface;
merely suppressed,
now relishing its reign once again.
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