and with every day,


i miss him more.

The four white walls,
could make anyone crazy.
I was just unfortunate to be one of them.

Trapped inside a room with no lock.
Trapped inside a mind set that’s unescapable.

Her breath tastes of the cigarette smoke she once cursed you for having,
and now that you're gone she's been the one in need of putting the killing between her own teeth.
The smoke lingers on her clothes and body.
A  smell  she  once  deceived.
But you're gone.
And she no longer cares.

everyone speaks of going to heaven
"may his soul rest in peace"
acting as if they don't realize
he chose this for himself
conciously decided to take his life
he did not grow wings and fly away
his coffin is not empty
it has a body
and that body has rope marks
around the neck
his hands are cold
his eyes are shut
his organs are slowly rotting away
it is not beautiful
he is not an angel
he is the dead remains
of what once was
and all those saying
"he is in a better place"
have absolutely no proof of their statement
and neither did he,
all he knew was
that no matter what awaited him in the afterlife,
it could be no worse than the life he was living right now
it was not an accident
he did not fall,
he jumped
he chose to die
he chose to die this way
because the pain of death
& the pain of the dead
was nothing in comparison to the pain of life & the living
because it was easier
to hang himself from the hook on the ceiling
than to wake up the next morning
and look at himself in the mirror
he could not run from life
unless he was running towards death
so he chose
to win the race
first place
*once and for all

She was only twelve years old when she picked up the first razor blade that would be used to ruin the innocence in her wrists.
Her body now filled of reminders of the days she had, had enough with the world.
A reminder of the failed attempts of making a cut deep enough to not recover from.
Five years have past and the scars have began to pile up.
The blade still yet to be set down for good.