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mads Nov 2013
My heart grows heavy,
weighing down a ribcage made for mending
only to let it drown.

There are cold impressions
on my waist and belly
where your hands should rest.

It's a cold summer
only to get worse.

I fill the emptiness
with your old Guns N' Roses t-shirt.

We will be together again.
sorry
mads Nov 2013
How do you stop this debilitating aching
Within your chest?

And how do you keep from drowning,
When all you can do is sink,
Choking on water thicker than cement?

Have you ever tried to convince those around you
That you are in love with the very person they hate?

How do you walk again
After falling,
Crawling and then shattering every limb?

And who ever taught you to breathe,
After suffocating on sorry's and do you still love me's
And spewing up your lungs corrupted with
False innocence and lies?
I'm so sorry/
mads Nov 2013
Torture...

This is torture and you've fallen silent,

Tell me;

Where do the flowers grow now?

Let me whisper
Are you clawing at your chest too...?

Hearts wither and die,
Growing on stems with thorns,
Stabbing and scarring...
But,
But but but...
I can't stand this.
What have i done. what am i doing.
mads Nov 2013
I miss you.

I just utterly and absoultely miss you,
With every atom and cell within my broken flesh and bones.

It's as simple as that, and everything's fallen around me,
Just as easily as it was built.

And, I suppose,
I will never know
How much you miss me.

I need those words though,
To keep me going,
I need, I miss you,
And, I love you
In the same way you used to whisper it
With a lovestruck smile.
what have i done.
mads Nov 2013
I'd like to break my ribcage open,
And bash my skull with the shards.
To forget this pain,
Heartache and torture.
I felt it coming,
I saw it... touched it
And fell on it; it pierced like a vampires stake.

I am swelling with pain,
Overflowing onto those I love,
I am unintentionally; purposely
Setting others on fire.

Selfish, stupid, broken;
No ones deserves this pain
But me.
This is a mess. i am a mess. everything is a ******* mess.
mads Nov 2013
With baron wasteland for a mind,
        Nothing much ever happens
And nothing much ever occurs to me
    But a thick loneliness
Built up like a mirage--
     I see words, happiness and stars;
Nothing good... Nothing real
     But dust in my eyes
And a dehydrated heart.
mads Oct 2013
A personal protest,

A fight to forge an identity
And refuse all they think they know.
Butting heads against rams,
They wound but encase yourself with their fear
It hurts less when they attack it themselves.
Exist, create, destroy, love, hurt, ******, ******
Pre existing values that were pulled from the teeth of drunkards afraid of their own faces.
Shake free of shackles and swing them,

A personal protest.

A newly found revolution of a one man army.
I'd join you but I'm picketing my own funeral.
Stay fearless, stay unconformed, stay you,
Stay me, stay puppy.
A pat on the head from corporate junkies
As you march along side them
Licking their seeping fears for them
As they shake that ground you forgot to stand on.
The ground is not ours and
We are losing the fight against humanity,
We've lost our way.
They've lost their way.
Corporate monkeys ******* our brains,
******* their own egos.
Figure this out, because I can't.
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