Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
mads Aug 2013
I am wasted and wasting away.
I've been cemented within these walls
Pushing and pulling will-less air
Between pastel fading lungs and,
I stumble to dance awkward words
Off shattering porcelain lips.
To become an ornament is something else.
But to break your own heart with fear
Every waking moment, and every unconscious
Second of your life, is something more;
More difficult, crippling, punishing and bloodless
Than any deep, seeping wound.
12:11 am.
So tortured from ones own mind; so trapped and there is no foreseeable escape.
mads Aug 2013
For some
Unknown,
Unpronounced
Reason, I have always
Wanted to say,
"What do you want from me"
In conversation.
But I've been thinking,
And it's been a while,
Why would I ever
Need to stutter such a sentence
When no one has ever wanted me
Or even grasped the idea
Of needing me.
Wednesday afternoon, 5:43pm and I'm wasting away.
mads Aug 2013
C'est la vie.

That is life.

But life can be a million
different things.
And dreams can be a billion more.

Notre royaume.

Our kingdom.

Can be built with anything
but it's foundations are love
and scars are the clouds
weeping their known sorrows
on us each and every day
but they grow flowers
sharing with us better days.

Notre royaume, mon amour.

Our kingdom, My love.
This is cute. My mind is cute tonight, yet tortured.
mads Aug 2013
Maybe all the insane asylums are filled with Jesus's

and

Maybe all the churches are filled with maniacs.

and

Maybe all the schools are filled with dead beats

and

Maybe all the streets are filled with brainiacs.

and

Maybe businessmen are not in business chairs
     But hospitals instead.

and

Maybe doctors aren't lab rats in coats
     But witches beneath jungles.

and

Maybe all teachings aren't in books
     But in trees again.

and

Maybe all leaders are not statues
      But fell off the square edged earth.

and

Maybe politics is just what it seems
      *****-ish drunkards and rigged card games.
Offended or not. Take this as it is.

With help from Bryce. :)
mads Aug 2013
There is a certain kind of sadness
pooling deep within your eyes
and every time you smile
every time you laugh
it shines so bright
I'm sorry.
so
the hour,,
glass is ticking
and dripping and crack-
ing. will you fall down again
tonight, graze a new knee, tango with
new tears and taste a different kind of dirt. With
beautiful bruised lips like yours, I bet you never knew.
Well... this was unsuccessful
mads Jul 2013
Every day is the same

             You wake up and it's grey,


               Broken, empty and choking.

        
                  Until one day, your body,
    
                      Subconsciously,


                         Makes the conscious decision


                              To never wake up again.



                And then you're lost, in a darkness
                That was never yours to hold.
mads Jul 2013
B&W
Black and white is a comfort,
a run away; abandonment
and maybe i'm just used to it.
Strangely composed colours written together
as if black and white is a religion
and we all praise it,
like someones ever changing word
from 400 years ago called
God.

Black and white is simple
and finding simplicity in anything
is scarce in this torture of colour
we inhabit today
and i remember my earliest dream
it was all black and white,
still in the comfort of a womb
and i expected to see an ocean of black
and white when i emerged
but was wrongfully betrayed by reality
and i still am today.

i dont even look pretty in black and white.
if this doesnt make sense, then dont look for sense too hard and it will come.
Next page