took a dive and hit the deep end again

oh, where did it all go wrong?
(where did it all go wrong?)

it’s hard to pinpoint, or start,
i caused so many problems

(i feel so hollow)

all i know is destruction is my adrenaline
and

i don’t want the high to ever end.

i don’t want to feel.
i don’t want to heal.

so give me the fix, and let’s pretend,

because all i’ve got is sink or swim,
survive, and hold on,

because this wire has frayed,
split apart

and took a nosedive
headfirst into the heart.

oh, where did it all go wrong?

i took a chance, now star-crossed

the fire in me, once strong,
sways and flickers,
before going dark.

oh, where did it all go wrong?

the wires are crossed,
the messages aren’t clear
and

habits die hard.

the question is whether i can quit this

or will i dive headfirst
into my own sins?

clouded by judgment, lost within,

can’t say i didn’t give my all.

i just find it easier
just to give in.

For we unintentionally heal ourselves
  with short laughter and conversations
and eventually
     we use fragments of joy and motivation
as a step further to a small beginning
that leads to a big change
  and through this
we hope for brighter days

some nights fold in on themselves
after too many years and decades
spent emptying oneself for others

like old letters re-opened accusing
from where they'd been laid to rest
found in yellowing files and folders

debris stirring from the shadows
unsettles the window ledge dust
irritating the membranes of scent

as memory floods with questions
tagging along like curious children
squabbling about whose fault it was

that we sit writing with brimming eyes
with the kind of solitary regret and shock
that comes when bodies in a silent house

wander around aimlessly trying to fill time
with their pointless pursuits and blinded eyes
imagining just another hit from some website

will stave off stories of their past they shelved
for nights like this when the spectres return
to bring the bill from aged secrets banished

Too much is all I’ve ever told myself, to be one that holds not just my heart but the entirety of what I am on my bare skin, is to be to be naked with immense shame.

Am I what I what truly believe? or what I was told to be? Or am I every promise made by a hurt child?

To abandon one’s self in exchange for a forceful invite from those starved of light,

To make yourself small enough to fit within the cracks of those who never had a place within their shallow hearts,

To be able to juggle the minds of those who pierce their judgment onto others' skin like muddy stamps on delicate silk,

To simply question your own heart,

Was enough to break one’s soul into an eternal state of tender consciousness and agonizing bareness.

One might say ignorance brings bliss, and to a certain degree, it does.

The blind fears no longer the broken glass on the ground for he has no knowledge of it, there was never room for fear to grow.

The deaf fears no beginning of war, for he is only confused at the distraught.

Fear grew in place of knowledge.

Knowledge is no different from people for they hold many forms of behavior, beliefs,
and betrayals, but with knowledge comes ones curiosity, and with curiosity comes adventure, and with adventure comes tragedy or at times death.

You seek connection, yet you’re too naive, too young to understand that even friends **** others, and it’s not those who bite at you that pose a threat, but it is those that slowly sink their teeth in you, and as you’re slowly filled with venom, you never realize that the pain of those firsthand bites should have not been as intense, but because you were too busy tending to anyone’s wound but yours,

The thought never occurred that your pain was actually deeper than what you forced yourself to believe, because after all

You’ve been nothing but an unpleasant guests to many.

You’ve been made small enough.

You’ve left your own identity, yourself.

And your heart bleeds, and now it never stops and you can’t stop worrying that you’re constantly bleeding on others, but time has passed enough to leave no aid for you, and you bleed, still.

can you smell that?
that rotting scent
of yesterday
and all the things
that we’ve just
thrown away
the unpleasant aroma
of my life
and the horrible way
that i’m feeling right now
and how i wish
i would die today

i dont want to come down,
i want to stay here,
high in the clouds
and dreaming with the stars...

i dont want to come down,
where the grass is greener
and the birds sing songs
while the sun shines upon me...

that's not happiness to me.

i dont want to come down,
I'm safer up here,
I'm high, up in the sky
with the pretty little kites...

that's happiness to me.

i dont want to come down
where my mind is sober
and my body alive...

i don't want to come down...
i want to stay high,
high above the world...

i want to stay high...
i dont want to fall down...

i want to be high,
i don't want sobriety,
i don't want to be living...

but if I can't be up high,
and if I have to come down...

is it possible to find happiness six feet under ground?

Shades of turquoise fill glassy eyes
Stiff like a mannequin
Emotionally paralyzed

The lights are on
And someone’s home
An infantilized mind
Cased in flesh and bone

Punishment for grief
A cure for anxiety
A husband’s order
For a female lobotomy