It’s overwhelming, the depth of it all,
The length you fall, before you hit the bottom
The deep, the mess
The engulfing darkness
the smell of cold wet rocks
And dead grass
The shrilling silence that deafens
the echo of the wind as you fall
the air that fills your lungs almost seems fresh
before you take your last breath.
mama, I love you,
but you just dont see,
how the joy has left me.
I no longer feel,
from the tips of my fingers
to my toes.
I feel absolutely
mama I wish you would listen
when I say,
maybe I could learn to feel again.
but mama says,
it isnt real.
it will pass.
stop thinking so much.
so theres this ocean,
big and blue,
so much life breathing in its waters,
how could I have seen?
the death that swam beneath.
what should one say,
when they think about the end -
twice a day,
should I say
or should I say nothing.
I feel that of those I hate,
I cry the words of their fate,
I see the world in which they lie,
the somber meaning of their cry,
I hear the wind that cuts beneath their feet,
I tremble as they accept defeat.
I can't do this anymore,
I just cant.
Does it ever end,
this expanse of pain, and suffering.
I dont understand why,
why am I hear if I all I seemed to do is cry and waste away and crawl further into myself.
Please explain why I seem to see no end to this feeling i feel all the time.
no matter if i am genuinely happy or sad, theres just this pain I feel.
Like I'm constantly in pain just for existing.
As if it will ever end as long as I have breathe in my lungs and speech on my tongue. It will just be pain.
I dont understand why.
I'm restless, I cant sleep.
This lump in my throat,
The burn in my eyes, the cold in my feet.
The salt on my cheeks, the pain in my back,
I'm restless, I cant sleep.
The pictures in my mind, when i close my eyes,
The sounds in my head, when I think too far,
The memories I feel, the wounds that wont heal.
I'm restless and I cant sleep.
I'm afraid of what I'll be, if I cant wake up,
And be the person i was, before I was this me.
I always heard of the stories,
of what happened behind closed doors,
what people whispered about when it was spoken about on the news,
when you don't even bat and eyelid,
because it will never happen to you-
You'll never know that pain -
I thought -
And now, I cry. Because I was so fortunate before
And now I can't look at myself the same way.
I cant think the same way,
Hurts to know I will never be the same.
So much to say,
no one to talk too.
Am I wrong to hate those who protest to be depressed and want to **** themselves when they have everything I wish I had?
When they say they hate their lives but there family is still together and money is never a problem.
It is wrong that I hate them for not being happy with what they have? When I'm forced to smile and carry on when it feels like I might just snap and break at any second.
What is all this worth?
Will I only find peace after the end?
Will it ever end?
I'm just tired
Why does nobody see that.
my forehead is damp,
there's a piercing pain in my skull,
sweat drips down the back of my neck,
my throat tightens, I'm breathing harder,
trying to stay alive - focus - count.
they say its not real,
the pain in my head,
they say the pills won't work,
but it's all I have to comfort me.
They need to realise, that one day,
she will walk away, and they will never see her again.
wish I could go back,
to a time where I didn't understand,
what I felt. because now that I know,
it's crushing me.
I'm tired, of this.
No one understands it.
The pain that I feel,
they think it doesnt affect me,
because I'm young.
They don't realise how wrong they are.
They have pushed me, shoved me around
Made me not want to be myself anymore.
Being the better person because why do I have to be so good if everyone around is talking s...
Why do I have to be the one to keep living if all they are doing is telling me why it's not worth it.
How better it will be if we just cease to exist.
my mind is fuzzy, like a television put on standby. I'm awake in a dream, one that has no beginning or end. it's a long red thread of fate that loops into infinite tangles and knots. my eyes are burning because I can see the smoke but there are no flames. Thoughts break inside of my head like cracked eggs, the yoke split over clean counters. my head. they ravage me like hungry lions. they consume my every fibre. I am all but them. they have collected my thoughts and burned my hopes. they have caged me by their own personal ruins. I am but nothing without their precious gifts of life and breath. I cannot contain the fear of anger that is being withheld. my only refuge, the words I may write when I am in solitude.
I guess I can't blame them,
for not asking me how I am,
when I smile, and laugh,
when all I want is someone
it's going to be okay.
Even when I know it's not.
Restless I rock, back and
forth, back and
squeezing my knees, shutting my eyes,
so the tears don't fall, I'm breathing hard,
my heart is beating in my head,
Fingernails digging into my leg.
for that sound. A door, being slammed.
A voice, being raised.
A glass, being broken.
Back and forth,
back and forth
back and -
I'm trapped, trapped by every breath I take, every blink my eyes take. I am stuck. Stuck in by those who conform to the demons in their minds, I am a slave to the thoughts, thoughts so ambitious that they cannot be contained in the concious but rather un. I am afloat, a dream, a lost. In a never ending strain of my voice, speaking in tongues, crying. Pleading to them.
Leave me alone.
mindless he drifts into unknown worlds,
where nothing exists and nothing resists,
temptations to create or become,
he just continues to drifts amongst
the bright rainbow colours of the
void he drifts, unknowning of how
far he has drifted. continuously
never going anywhere, staying, going
never leaving the nothing.
oh Red, I see your anguish, the fire that burns between your wings,
why are you so enraged. why do you say that you wont fly because the sky is too dark for your eyes. red bird, tell me of the future, what do you seen beyond the clouds. is better than what lies now.
broken, shards, lay strew across her eyes,
and black holes fill her cheeks, leaves
sewn into her lips, hands are replaced with
plastic bottles, twisted and obscure.
ash and fire burn into her core, leaving
dust that fills her nose and mouth,
her skin is dark purple, bruised and sore.
there's this, fire. inside of me.
that I don't understand.
but it understands me.
it knows my fears, and my hate.
it fuels my intentions,
it burns a dark red,
and it speaks in tongues,
it feels the disgust that lurks
in my heart.
if there is a higher being made of love,
why am I constantly in pain,
why do the people around me suffer in decay,
why does the world experience such devastation,
if there's a bigger picture.
why do I cry at night, alone and in need,
if all I need is love and to be loved,
why am I so alone.
why do I have to suffer underneath
the destroyed love of others.
why is love so painful.
I know, when you think I don't,
I know how you really feel,
the words you speak when my back is turned,
the hurt you spew and the love you give when we face.
how can you be so ignorant of the fact
that I know you hate me, don't pretend anymore.
there's no point, because I know, I know its you.
the little black strings attached to my heart,
tug ever so slightly,
sometimes they tug gently other times they pull so tight
it feels as if my heart is going to rip into pieces.
so many times I've wanted to cut the strings free
and let my heart be unattached to anything,
but once a little black string has been cut it can never be tied back again.
yellow bird, hello, tell me of the sun times,
when gold touched the horizon and it shimmered,
waved at the blinding sun,
yellow bird how high can you fly? without the wind
breaking your cry/why are you so shy to tell me your
secret oh yellow bird, tell me the stories of when you
would dive from the sky, a yellow beam of light,
tell the world beneath of your might.
is harder because they won't
they were wrong.
here's to all the;
the Lego houses we didn't build.
the blanket forts we didn't design.
the games we didn't play.
the days we would of fought.
the places we didn't go.
the things we didn't say.
the hugs we wouldn't of let go.
the inside jokes we never made up.
the competitiveness that we would of had.
the doors we would of slammed.
the fun we will never have.
here is to my brother who was taken before he was born, because God knew he wasn't ready for this world.
our house was always changing, from the red hot, blistering arguments, to the cold dark silence that lurked in the hallways,
it would change to the colourful cool shade that spring brings, laughter could be heard, the colour would drain and the shade would be lost, soon giving way for the blistering hot. it was not unknown of, this bi-polar house always changing and always not.
He hates the world so much it seems,
he wishes he could be gone in his dreams,
he fights his battles alone, his scars are the glinting tears his fears have forgotten.
his anger breaks the silent void that fill his house with noise.
He spits his words so hatefully
without reason he breaks the broken,
he trys to buy peoples hearts with money
if only we were to love the things
if you could see me, how much I am like you would, would you hate me more than you already do.
she is a broken woman, down and confused.
taken for granted and is never amused.
she is a warden that stalks the halls in the afternoon but is a broken bird who quietly sings at night.
she is a lonely soul looking for love
afraid to leave the one she does.
she wishes she was dead because she's depressed and has no hope for a future.
she dreams of being in the dark nothingness because there had been no light in her life for years.
she is my mother.
She is angry but is forced to be so still and silent.
She is broken and is given weak tape to fix herself.
She is unhappy but can fake a smile without a doubt.
She is the daughter you wished you had drowned as a baby.
She is unperfect and a rash you cannot get rid of.
She is a weight on your back you've carried for 18 years and just dropped.
She is a fighter you can beat down but never defeat.
She is a scar in society that you created.
She is your daughter.
i want to scream.
I want to run away.
i WANT to tell everyone that i can't handle it anymore.
i want to tell people TO leave me alone.
i want to DIE.
i have nothing.
all i have is pain and hatred and unhappiness.
everyone else's lives are so perfect.
why was mine chosen to be broken.
Numb. Is all I feel. hands, feet and heart.
all numb. broken and shredded like a dead crushed leaf. I lie against the cold concrete floor.
knocking my knuckles against the brick wall. The skin turning red like the red I see all day long. The crying has stopped long ago, as all the tears have been used and wasted. I think of my future that has already been broken.
I'm sorry for all the times I fell down and did not get back up,
I'm sorry for all the times I never made it as far as you wanted me too,
I'm sorry for not being the daughter you wanted me to be,
I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, or being smart enough,
I'm sorry for being your only child and your only disappointment.
why was my existence necessary, my lack of actuality,
as I have become; nothing, nothing, nothing
what is the purpose of my conscious, if for nothing but
my self abuse.
what use is this subjection to vile, unreasonable hate and
why was I created, to become a after thought, unneeded
for I cannot contemplate the reasoning behind my being.
shaking frustrations, heart aching situations,
she breaks her fingers in a brick wall confrontation
red/black/orange/purple seep from the opaque -
white knuckles, squeezing tight
she rips the papers, shreds she dreads
broken frames, abandoned - afraid,
the expectations, sit heavy - break her neck
her head hangs
fists and wrists - left -
a young girl questioned the Oak Trees on their wisdom,
they told her she was too young to worry about the future,
they promised to share their wisdom once she had grown,
a young boy questioned the Oak Trees on their knowledge,
they told him he was too young to care about gaining knowledge,
they promised him to have knowledge once he was grown,
the boy came back to question the Oak Trees on their knowledge,
the Oak Trees replied, that knowledge was useless with out the wisdom to use it.
the young girl never came back.
why do we let people in
that we know will hurt us
why do we feel things
that we don't really understand
why do we change ourselves
in order to be accepted
why is really the question,
but its never
she never liked mirrors
they never told her good things.
the little blue bird from my dream,
it told me I would be okay,
it told me I would get through it,
it told me not to worry
that little blue bird from my dream died.
smiling, always putting smiles on their faces
drowning out problems with your handheld speaker,
speaker, motivational, help seeker, help needer
personal density, soaking it all up, drenched in
intensity of your gaze, powerful to move fears out
his golden threaded voice sewed me in tight,
engulfing my lungs, I was left with no sight,
his forested eyes drove me for miles,
I was trapped under the leaves of his insane authority,
thoughtless I obliged to his obscure sincerity.
he was my golden angel, in a dark night time sky,
unaware of his tugging threads my heart pulls nearby,
his honey-sweet embrace leaving my thoughts - denials.
Daffodil, sweetheart you're just like the rest,
plain and simple, still ugly at your best,
your colours are dull and you don't have a nice smell,
there's hundreds and thousands of you, oh
small and fragile daffodil, you thought you were
special sadly you're not, you even lack the
simplistic things the weeds have got,
you look like a unfinished piece that God forgot,
why do you try so hard to be that beautiful rose
because it seems to be that everyone but you
its hard to be a sweet sweet Daffodil, but that's what you are.