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Oct 2015 · 562
izzat haziq Oct 2015
calm consumes me but i dislike the notion of being alone. the bitterness of isolation lingers in your mouth the way it did when you took your first meds as a toddler.

i am trying to **** the cynical, pessimistic voice that is constantly whispering in my ears chasing me into a prison of self isolation.
i am trying to ****** the sensitive side off me that is oh so easily offended by everything, anyone
i am trying.

my dreams are turning into lucid bouts of nightmares, in the summer rain i patiently wait for someone to pull me out of this oblivion.
Aug 2015 · 693
im always sick
izzat haziq Aug 2015
grief, holding me from embracing the welcoming arms of happiness
ive learned that these bedroom walls, the floor that i crawl, had far too many times witnessed me collapsed and paralysed by my own sick mind.

all i want is nothing more, but for these voices in my head to go, leave me.
leave me in the comfort of deafning silence. i no longer wish to be sick.
its been a year since i last written anything in here so yeh hi hello
Sep 2014 · 574
mute. ache
izzat haziq Sep 2014
i was never proud of the words that came out my mouth
these syllables that choose to pronounce are poison & every phrase reeks of foolishness
i either speak too much or speak none at all
& when i do, it seems that i'm pushing bullets into your eardrums.
i have witness far too many catastrophe caused by my boneless tongue.

this is an apology, forgive me
Aug 2014 · 424
izzat haziq Aug 2014
i asked for an inch of happiness to seed inside of me but all god gave to me was countless night of not sleeping, staring the walls seeking for remedy for my perpetual sorrow. i tried to surrender myself to the dark beneath my bed, perhaps the boogeyman could cheer me up but all i found was cobwebs, intricate as the many red strings strangling my beating heart which i am unable to untie. same goes to the radiohead tracks i religiously listen to every moment of my life, not even jonny greenwood could pull me out of the oblivion that i've cursed to dwell in. i am the embodiment of perfect misery, trapped in a state of impending doom, an hourglass that bound to shatter.

i need company but it seems that the only company that i'll ever have is solitude & loneliness
i need friends but my only friends are the ugly entities inside my head
i need everything & anything that could somehow complete the jigsaw puzzle that is my life but i have found none in between
my whole existance is bound to be warped in a blackhole, whenever i am trying my best to be on my best behaviour i am
.forced back into the impending doom of negativities that rooted inside of every fiber of my body
i am a void, an impasse.
you can't mend these wounds
don't even bother to try.
Aug 2014 · 693
izzat haziq Aug 2014
he reeks of cigarette fumes, with unwashed hair that crooked smile you always fancied
while i  smelled like burnt pages of confessions & misery written in the early hours of dawn my morose thoughts spilled into a journal which i choose to douse with gasoline & ignite in my mother's kitchen sink; my face barely cracking a smile because i was to busy trying to calm my nerves whenever im with you the concept of ****** expression escaped from the threshold of my mind
yet ironically i find that the only thing that i could express is hatred towards my own self, by breaking my skin in halves it was the closest thing that comforts me next to your presence

oh i could almost hear the  flutters of butterfly in your tummy as you watches every word coming out of his mouth, while mine is full of rusting razors cutting through my insides as i attempt to swallow the pain of being in love with your bestfriend's girlfriend
Apr 2014 · 1.0k
a guide on how to cry
izzat haziq Apr 2014
think of something bad, a tragedy perhaps
breath in
savour the clusterfuck of air particles that youve insufflate
let them linger in the different threshold of your lung
inhale till you cant feel no more, the brittle feel of your ribcage collapsing & sinking itself into your blooded flesh
tear droplets will be discarded by your eyes soon after
expect a slight pain throughout your whole body
feel free to scream, laugh or even go on a rampage during this process
for those who are well versed in the ancient art of crying, they may experience symptoms such as the urge to puke, disorientation & other health issues
remember practice good breathing rythm in order to avoid suffocation & death

feel free to improvise along the way to ensure maximum enjoyment in this activity
if done right, you'll find that crying is addictive in a theraupetic fashion.
pls do not take this srsly tho. ..,
Mar 2014 · 553
sanguine / dissipate
izzat haziq Mar 2014
i stared at my palms & wished that the cracks on it were depicting some kind of path towards another heaven
my lungs are anchored down by a thousand threads laced with pessimistic poisons
i want to convince myself that i am not an anomaly of the society
   nor a mistake made by god
but i am too tired of getting hugs that i do not deserve
am too guilty to be another precious child
the mask that i wore is beginning to  fade
& as i listen to the manic voices in my head singing their anthem
all i can do now is wish that my corpse decay soon as i am a mere phantom hiding beneath a wasted vessel of a teenage boy.
Mar 2014 · 1.0k
izzat haziq Mar 2014
i miss the nights when i would feel nothing, see nothing
the nights when i wandered to another astral in the midst of my deep slumber
when i discovered what it is like to be in a realm of dreams, to be devoured by the lucidity of nightmares.

now that is all set and done i have finally grown up
an entity managed to lift the veils of sands that shielded my eyelids
i've lost my yawn, my drowsy eyes
sleep has transcended itself from being an effortless routine to an ardous task
clouds of thoughts lingered in my mind attacking me
a myriad of irrelevant voices resonates in my ear
i am distracted by pathetic regrets
an hour quickly turns into a whole night of arguments with the inner being that dwells inside of me

so i am left with no choice but to fight them
every war leaves casualties
and it seems that my soldiers ought to be treated with large prescription of sleeping pills
Feb 2014 · 759
fainting spells
izzat haziq Feb 2014
you immediately feel that there's some kind of unknown forces extracting air out of you moist lungs whenever you caught a glimpse of him, oh the pale complexion of his skin that you yearn all too much to devour.
his smouldering black eyes, darker than onyx yet far more magnetic than a black hole, you could gaze at it all day long. whenever he speaks you could genuinely feel all 4 corners of the walls caving in, his voice was as sweet as an ochesctrated hymn continuously to drive itself into your ear drums infesting every piece of neurons  inside your brain.

he was the perfect fainting spell for you & i am merely a lacklustre, unable to charm you. all i ever knew was to write poems on pieces of paper crumpling them at the end of the day so i could string them up as a rosary that i pray to but now i realise that no kind of prayers was able to break you free from his necromancy.
Feb 2014 · 795
izzat haziq Feb 2014
i have nothing
for i am lost in this downward spiral of a ****** up universe
alone but not really a loner
picking up the pieces of a broken stature trying to re enact my yesteryears of pure sonder
a sudden realisation that I am
(We are)
going fast approaching our own demise
Jan 2014 · 778
izzat haziq Jan 2014
what she misses the most about her teenage years was her midnight walk down the neighbourhood alone, not heading anyway in particular, shivering due to the bitter coldness. she roams & wander aimlessly, unbeknown to her dysfunctional family. she was an idle teen lonely a misfit a freak. she wasn't sneaking out to attend a rave or parties & it was unlikely that she would get invited either. gun sitting under her petticoat, just in case she needed to use it. the world was /& is a pretty ****** up place she didn't want to end up dead in a drain gang ***** by chavs either. other people would eye her suspiciously if anyone spotted her. she would ignore them, an idle teen she was. some even offered her money in return for ****** favours but she kindly turned them down, insisting that she was "not that kind of girl". sometimes she wonder if she really took off will her parents even care? she would sleep on playgrounds, lying awake staring at constellations plane talking to god, asking whether she should run away & leave everything behind. she longs to inhale the icy cold air that at 3.35 a.m that sets her heart on fire but at the same time triggers a logical part of her grey matter that she should head home. sometimes she wishes that she would ignore her brain signals & leave town
Jan 2014 · 1.2k
the devil we share
izzat haziq Jan 2014
forcing our demons to dwell into our hollow shell
of our bone cavity
we grieve at the second these demons escaped from their compartment
worrying at the consequences if we let them roam out of our epidermis
yet we unknowingly kept them as prisoners inside of us for such a long period they have somewhat *evolved

from being oppressed to becoming an oppressor
they took over our heart & reign over them spewing lust gluttony wrath pride greed sloth & envy on our arteries letting them flow, living, breathing in our bodies
soon enough
consuming us alive
the oppressed have become the oppressor
he/them, smiling gleefully smirking at his/their spawn
the patron saint of sins is born
Jan 2014 · 1.7k
macabre appreciation
izzat haziq Jan 2014
i've always have this mental image  of ancient poets
Homer, Shakespeare, Rumi
kneeling on the ground sacrificing young virgins drawing the bloods of their **** in vials.
writing prose poems ode & what not using haemoglobin as inks. sweet red liquid oozing from felt tip drawing letters & aksara on papyrus sheets, producing masterpieces in the form of poems that we worship.
Nov 2013 · 1.0k
izzat haziq Nov 2013
staring at her face was the only remedy i needed to cure my sadness and deprived soul

no longer i yearn for other things
i have came attached
to an angel in disguise sent from the 7th paradise

letters i wrote to her
tattered but not torn those yesteryears of collecting photographs of her
she was my Monroe

bit by bit I detached the petals from its thorny stalk
she loves me she loves me not
is a question that i will never obtain a concrete answer

i walked away from her grave with a sense of reluctance
because i knew
under those 6ft of soil & dirt
she beckons me to join her
my Matilda
that day will come
Basically this is the outcome of repeating alt-j // matilda for hours & hours
Oct 2013 · 878
6 secs
izzat haziq Oct 2013
all it takes is 6 seconds for him to make up his mind
for him to raise his hands and beat his wife till there is no more skin
just bruises.

6 seconds is all it takes for their son to run.
run away from the echoes of scream coming from a woman whom her womb was once his sanctum.
he wanted an escape.

6 seconds later lies a dead woman on the floor half dead half alive half sane praying to lord allmighty that He will end her misery soon

sadness filled the void in his soul as he slowly watched his once beautiful wife slowly following the trail grim reaper had left her in the form of marriage.

& her wedding gown was nothing but her **** pale skin garnered with contusions red and blue
Sep 2013 · 1.8k
death via skype
izzat haziq Sep 2013
she call me last night
she said she miss me
wanted to see me for the last time
i asked her
"are you leaving me"
she was silent

that night we talked for hours
we lost track of time
school was hell as usual for her
she'd never been a popular girl
an introvert who preferred to date books rather than to date guys
i was her only exception
  she said her brother had always been a nuisance
she loved him nevertheless though
her mom brought her a new dress
and her dad was planning to buy her a car
it was a pretty banal conversation
one that i could never in my wildest dream thought it was our last one
i was staring at her face
through the dark dimmed display
i can see her eyes
flickering brilliantly
she was happy
but i couldn't  decipher what
Was the cause of her sudden

"i'm gonna leave you soon"
"are you breaking up with me"
"then why"

she backed off from the screen
and came back with a gun
1 2 3 she pulled the trigger
it went straight to her head
i could see blood
creating an abstract visual
on her white-washed wall
she slumped in front of her computer
the skype session ended

Aug 2013 · 1.0k
sensory deprivation
izzat haziq Aug 2013
have you ever been in an isolation tank i wonder how does it feel to be in there our body no longer feeling anything no longer stimulated no longer contaminated no longer tainted?

have you ever wonder how it would feel like to be choosen to partake in such a macabre experiment where one human being  voluntarily  floats **** inside a dark chamber dark blinded deafen and numb?

have you ever worry that one might loses his or her soul because of the prolonged silenced smothered in epsom salt floating not only a human body but also leaving a weightless soul to travel its way towards the astral plane?

have you even considered that the isolation tank is an insidious yet subtle way for someone who is suicadal to detach his or her soul no longer feeling the weight of the world only leaving his or her weightless spirit (conjured by a godly apparition) to join Him in his throne?
Aug 2013 · 947
cloud sanctum
izzat haziq Aug 2013
she was wide awake
laying on the dandelion field
staring at the cerrulean sky
her eyes red and puffy
drowned in tears
her wrist ached
her heart ached

she was wide awake
laying on the dandelion field
staring at the cerrulean sky
wanting to go up there
to the clouds
it would be a lot easier
if she was up there
she hated living
she hated society
she hated how she loses her possesions
-her friends
-her family
-her virginity
she had lost it all
and the walls inside her head
that borders her from any outside threat
are on the verge of demolition
she could no longer hold onto it
the foundation have been shaken
far too many times before

she was wide awake
laying on the dandelion field
staring at the cerrulean sky
her eyes no longer red and puffy
she was no longer drowning in her own tears
her wrist bears no scars
her heart was leaping with joy
she felt so alive
but she was dead

but she didn't care anyway
she never have a liking for her
ugly lacklustre body anyway
it was a pleasure to leave it on the ground
let the worms eat it
she was genuinely happy
for she had finally reached
cloud sanctum

— The End —