Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Sir B Apr 2014
Its like nothing
I am always insulted
Always told how I ****
I am horrible
Don't listen
never understand
know nothing

But I do know things
i am better
i listen.

but its all a waste
because inner part of me
wants to crumble and die
to end the suffering.
just, don't console me.
Sir B Apr 2014
You told me was suicidal
And i tried helping
It was tough
But we persuaded him to live

Later, yesterday…
I saw him in the hallway
And was going to ask him
"How are you feeling?"

Only to pull myself back
Because my question would have
Made him, lose trust on you
For revealing the world about his suicidal intentions

So I didnt ask him
So that he will continue talking
Talking to you, and you could help
Otherwise

It would be one cut too far
And nobody informed beforehand...
The person should be okay, as far I know. But just analyzing the situation told me this…
Sir B Apr 2014
I want to melt away
die
sleep
anything but live

I have done no good
just
troubled people
hurt them
been cruel to myself
others
nothing right

I just want to melt
in the shadows
the lonely places
hallways
on the tennis courts
just

don't want to live
I want to melt
Realized I troubled her, a lot. Realized that I should leave and not bother anyone. Realized I should just give up on it. Realized I am never getting to my goal. Realized that I am just a waste. Realized a lot of things.
Sir B Apr 2014
You know
I found out
I have
dead imagination??

This is a serious problem
someone killed it
I don't know who
But someone did
and that's a problem
Need to revive my imagination
need to draw, paint, play

Revive  *it
Chatting with a friend and they ask me to draw something/anything on my hand.. and then I realize I have a dead imagination.. now, I have to change that
Sir B Apr 2014
I have been so patient
For so long
I dont understand

How was i this patient?
What and how
Just how exactly?

Guess, i have to be patient
Longer...
Just thoughts again
  Apr 2014 Sir B
Micheal Wolf
Ink flowed from the pen with such ferocity. He often was lost for words but not today. No today was different. The pen couldn't keep up with the words tumbling out of his headspace. The pen was thrown and the keypad assaulted. This was war. A war with himself. A war of lost words.
Sir B Apr 2014

About you and death
about love and indifference
about life
about the world
about myself
about everything


it doesn't feel good..
i have started feeling more "empty" and lonely and i have to control myself from doing idiotic acts. It's a struggle now... but, again, it always has been...
Next page