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Kim May 2013
I went to church today
I don't know what I was trying to find
Hopes? Dreams? A figure to follow and some worthy morals?
I wanted advice, I wanted to feel alive

I left there with these words resonating in my head
"Homosexuality and suicide are abominable"
a short phrase that sums the fancy and elaborated speech of the preacher
Only the sinful suffer, and I guess that's why I am troubled.

I've thought of suicide jokingly and seductively
more times that I could possibly count
I have kissed girls and I am openly attracted to them
I am not afraid of saying it and with respect, showing it.

According to the bible;
Lesbians and gays was a punishment for not obeying God
Suicide is a way of controlling your faith
And the only one that has power over you is the Lord.

God gives you what he thinks you deserve
He knows you since before you where born
and because of that he is more responsible of yourself
than yourself itself.

Your brains are too small
how dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts?
He created all and everything, all and nothing
He knows what he is doing, and in no way you can try to question him

I felt more small and insignificant than ever,
How did a invisible figure matter more than my logical arguments?
Can't I decide what I want? Isn't it my body and my emotions the one in play?
There's other 8 billion people and you try to guilt trip me because I want to end it all?

Sinners will suffer only the prayer can save you, you can't save yourself, God will save you.
Isn't it better to try to put myself together? Wouldn't I be learning more with that experience?
Instead of repeating words of prayers, shouldn't It try to save myself or solve the problems?
How dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts!

If God chooses to give you what he believes is right
Then why am I the one in so much pain?
Why good things doesn't happen to good people and to the bad ones bad things?
Is it because the bad ones will always pray?

I went to church today
I tried to find support,
I wanted to confess
"Hey, I want to **** myself"

I thought that well...
If so many people could feel happy by worshiping
I didn't loose anything by trying
I instead ended up gaining: guilt, trouble, and a feeling that I will burn in hell
I haven't written in a while, therefore it won't be as good as it was before -it's not like it was ever good, but it used to be at least decent-
So I apologize before hand. I will try to make it better and post the improvement, but it's late, I am tired and this is more a stream of consciousness experience after church.
I hope that at least my point gets across...
Kim Feb 2013
In that precise moment
Locked in a hot sweaty tedious classroom
the words stopped making sense and my thoughts took control
In the middle of a Sociales class is when I realized…

I am wasting my life, it is dripping through my fingers
I am wasting my time, with a useless lesson after other,
I am wasting my energy, (the little I have left)
I am wasting it, and the hours that pass won’t come back

It surprises me how can no one realize
the direct and -not even trying to be hidden- brainwashing
They say “think outside the box” but here’s what outside the box should be.
And no one cares, and no one tries, if not, everyone solemnly obeys.

I try to raise my voice but I’m shush
I try to express an alternative opinion but I’m shush
I try to fit, but I can’t and once again I’m sent to shush.
I try to cry for help, but no one comes.

I spend my nights working, taking another sip
in my ever lasting coffee,
writing essays, solving equations, answering questions
I won’t sleep, there’s no time for that, I need to finish

But for what? I finish my work, I get the highest grades
But for what? What’s the point of it? What do I get in return?
No sleep, another headache, and tons of papers to finish due tomorrow.
That’s all, that’s what I’m supposed to be, another efficient machine.

And no one cares if you cry or yell,
if you cut or punch, no one cares,
But if you finish your work, if you write the 2000 words.
Then it’s alright, because you are doing what you are supposed to do.

Because no one cares if you **** yourself,
they will care when they see your motionless body, when there’s nothing left to do.
Then they care, and the 2000 words don’t matter anymore
Because you are already gone.
Kim Feb 2013
I thought that for once my luck was reversed,
That this time maybe a lovable smile could be painted on my normally pursed lips
too late I realized it was a mistake, happiness wasn’t here to stay, it was a trick, a sick joke
visiting me, only wanting to touch the temple water or my sadness

To see that the ocean was sweeter than my sour tears.
to verify that the light couldn’t reach the dark spot where my mind resides.
To check that I might not be made for happiness or any derived of such complex emotion,
There’s just too many scars, too many cracks

Emotional wounds constantly open and not properly disinfected,
that need little more than words or looks to hurt me with the “remember”
malicious bugs that eat me from the inside, delighting themselves with tinny bites,
tasting the rotting parts of the place where my soul use to be alive.

My heart has already perish, burning all at once and consuming itself on the fire of the moment
Feeling too intensely drove me to an -not even entertaining- insanity, I decided not to feel,
not to trust, not to be here, only physically  I was forced to stay
but emotionally and mentally I was gone, far away,

At least that is what I like to think, believing that a long time before I used to feel,
But I know it might be another lie, inventions of my subconscious mind
trying to make my existence a more bearable experience, since looking back to the “remember”
I can firmly assure that I’ve never enjoyed anything, not once or ever

I was another lost soul, aimlessly wandering with no defined route, not a goal nowhere to go,
I only could follow my train of thought, that firmly abstracted from the original rules
Anything that tried to be implanted on me was wrong, I believed in no trusting anyone
not an author, not a religion, not codes nor social norms. I couldn’t trust no one.

I was -I am- alone, trying to follow my heart,  that hastily died,

Leaving me once again alone, without even having myself as a miserable company,
lacking of wit and humor I was, -I am- not a bright thought passed me by,
I was – I am- surrounded in darkness trying to find a light to turn in
Something to illuminate me and scare the monsters that so fondly bear with me.

I like to believe that everything changed, that I’m strong and I did overcome it
but I’m weak I must admit, and everything is the same,
the faces have disfigured into other strangers, the original names have been lost,
and the surroundings have acquired different shapes and forms,  

But everything is the same, I’m still an unresolved mess, I haven’t changed
no matter where I run and how much I delve and with desperateness I search
I’ll never find my absent souI, I have lost it a long time ago,
Kim Feb 2013
You are all the same
You all ******* and *******
you cry and laugh
and with pain you “smile”

You are all tired of your own sad life
Working in a mediocre job
that barely pays off
Married or not, complaining for both

“You changed!”, you yell
to your average looking wife
“Why am I alone?”, you ask
to your fat and fuzzy cat

You complain because
of what you have
You complain because
of what you lack

You complain, and cry, and claim
that happiness you deserve
Life doesn’t own you nothing, you darl
Better learn it now or suffer some more.

Money, price, fortune
that’s all you need
Cash makes you rich
Happiness will only bring a smile

To your ugly looking face
“It’s ugly enough, the tv told me that
I’m nothing compared to Brad Pitt
Nor Johnny Deep.”

“I need no smile to ugly it
a little more
I can have cash
and my own Ferrari buy”

-A world full of meaningless words
and wasted hours,-
You all live in a constant rush
to eat, to ****, to live

Running up and down
rushing to send the papers
and talk to your hated boss
But at least money is getting it.

Or in the other part
we can watch the opposite band
The full of stress grown-ups
And the careless young mans.

You are locked on a king bed
“Exercise? why move?
I have a tv controller hiding
under my sheets, also have you seen my chips?”

Reading is a lost art
no need of books
when computer are at
with shinny screens and password locks

“Why read words?
when you can research
the intricate plot
in an instant or two”

Are you happy?
Can I even ask
Or have you lost the meaning
while you loosed the habit of reading?

Is that the only thing you lost?
where did you virginity go?
Oh “drunk as ****”
So you decided to ****?

Sounds pretty smart,
Where are the neurons at?
Ahh I understand, getting high everyday.
Yolo, right?

I’m only describing reality
why getting offended?
Did I hurt your feelings?
Did you feel connected?
Kim Feb 2013
There's a wall in between
   You                             and                                   I
           a barrier made of unspoken words
      and misinterpreted gestures,
           where loves drips through the cracks
            of a broken, yet solid barrier
                
         Where tears prevail and like
          glue they stick the division in the middle of
        You                                   and               ­                     Me
            a set line between of the rest of the
         World                       and my untouchable and comfortable                 Innocence  


There's a war in
two                                                             ­    sides
Between no one else than
Myself                              and                         ­      Me
an internal fight that never ceases
A quiet war, with no more guns
that explosive words and untraceable wounds

Maybe that already set wall
is the one that encloses myself
in my own private space

Alone
I will remain,
because no one else, the barriers
dares to even try to surpass.

There's too many cracks to climb
it's a
                        risky
                                  ­                    fall
to an unbearable pain
a slow transition death
that will drive you insane

Do you dare?                                                            ­   Do you dare
to try to pass the wall and reach
to my troubled soul?
                                                    Get to know my                            curious mind
instead of only
my body                        climb,                                      
                                       try to reach to my real                       inside
for more than
lust and desire                                                                      
teach me, teach me
what love really is.

And maybe the war will end
and the walls will be finally destroyed
Just try to get inside.
   Meanwhile the door I'll try to find.
Kim Feb 2013
With a childish joy
you reach for the light
“it shines, it shines”
with glory you cry

But the shinny light
to death it will drive
you come too close
and your sight it blinds

You feel your skin
slowly heating
you blood is slightly boiling
and your soul you are loosing

Don’t you see you are too close?
Seeing is not an option anymore!
You have to stop, you need to
stop striving for a light..

…that you’ll never come across.

With a childish joy
you reach for the light
“it shines, it shines”
with glory you cry

Your main concern
stays between
woman, ***, fashion and profit
-”Man, just lose it”-

You hear those screams
The obnoxious sounds that have become
the voices that dictate your life
your fears and lies.

And then you whine, and you whine
when the game of life
has closed the doors
to your troubled and selfish soul…

But the shinny light
to death it will drive
you come too close
and your sight it blinds
Kim Feb 2013
I can already anticipate
the unfortunate this day will be
I can already feel
the blood plumbing

…and my motivation flunking

Can I still count? The fourth, the fifth?
how many have I had only this week
It has become so common,
part of my routine, part of me.

I ineffectivly look for excuses
such as the scorching heat
and the buzzing sounds
things I always blame, when my head starts to hurt

Might it only be an inside pain
manifesting in an outside suffering?
an accumulation of disturbed thoughts
hiding in the darker spots of my over-used mind

My usual cocktail of variate pills
the usual cooling pillow
none of them have any effect
increasing the dose has no point, no more

Is there a way of curing, this bearable pain
this a slight modesty
easy to ignore, a undesirable company
that never leaves.

A friend at the door, that you can feel
it’s presence and refuse to open the entrance
to your lovely home
but then it knocks, and it knocks

The awful sound of the loud
knocks that shimmer your head
Nothing is bearable, not living
not breathing,

The screams, the yelling
of the tickling pens
My hands can’t avoid the shake
my eyes lower, trying to close

Maybe the uninvited friend will leave
if the host is found in a deep sleep
But no, the knocks won’t leave me alone.
“Complaining you wanted company? here it is, take it”.

“Don’t complain, I will be forever by your side”
Oh yes, the irony of my wishes, turning back to me.
“You have things to do” my inside voice yells
“Remember, no time of pity, just finish your work “

“And then you might be able to sleep”
Another lie, that keeps me awake
another laugh of my subconscious mind,
knowing that I will fall apart but wondering why,

Will it be the headache caused by the torment
of my thoughts? Or will it be the lack of sleep
caused by an anxious mind and the pile of tedious work
that needs to be done.

Is this enough to break me down?
“Are you this weak” laughs the cause of every headache,
Your problems aren’t even problems,
Family, past and friends, what a teenage *****.

“You are just drowning yourself in a glass of water
helped by pills”. Capsules full of chemicals
in which I hope to find an answer to my inside pain.
Pain, maybe I don’t even know what pain really means.
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