CBrown Dec 2015

Cutting my hands on shells
And trying to turn sand to pearls.
Loving you

Is stepping bare
Into a gelid, briny river
With an oyster bed floor.

Wyatt Jul 12

My destructive personality
will someday overweigh
always barely getting by.
My disaster will scar me
beyond any form of repair,
I get no answers
when I ask myself
why I leave it this way.

Barely getting by, eventually the streak will be broken and my chances will get too thin.

Low and behold I see, beneath the surface of things.

Inner mechanics that twist and tie us together. The reflections of humanity, the decay and rott placed at our feet.

The way we sew our seeds, ripping through avast particular selection of prey we feed.

Overall becoming that vicious cycle, we take up to hand down, we repeat.

Im plagued with constant torture of painful memories. Traumatizing moments render me to my ultimate defeat.

Im left too the wolves to eat. Only my fowl stinch Drives them away.

Too abstain distance from myself the enemy, who cares to caress my ego and pleasure me with they're company?

Who can I take down or who is out their
Who is worse off than me? Rinse, wash, repeat...


Not everyone learns but everyone remembers how it felt.
Julie C Smith Jun 17

Birds flying under sunlit blue skies
Crowded metro stations at night
A walk in the avenue
Chasing the butterflies

Sharing a kiss that tastes like vanilla
The smoke of your cigarette smells sweet
Fake fur coat over a mini skirt
We're Lolita replicas dressed up as Priscilla

The tears we cry in hotel rooms
Shine like diamonds in a faked card deck
The knife on my skin writes a bloody trademark
On my arm,  your name and 'I love You'

I love You
Ennovy May 1

Here today, in hell tomorrow.
If wisdom leads me there, I won't feel sorrow.

If the man who wanders in darkness
is ready to take my carcass

My body decayed by nature
my soul released in danger.

When the moon if fading out
and my brains are aroused.

When my existence is no longer needed
and stupidity at last seceded.

The echoing sound of shattering
which you heard
so softly in the distance
was the sound of me
trying to break myself.

~~ Stop fixing me. ~~~
Just Rachel Jan 10

Can someone please explain?
Why the need to control by pain?
Your mere energy yes,destructive
Drama,strife,the fighting
Constant you prove back bitting
Showing no remorse,who....you !?......ha never
You just think you're oh,so clever
Misery loves company,indeed this is so known
But I will not relate .....to a Heart of pure stone....

kerri Dec 2016

cars pass by
they softly shake this old house
they softly shake my old thoughts

wheels against the street
they mimic the door knob turning
they mimic my fast moving mind

headlights brightly shining
they light up my pitch black room
they light up the silhouettes haunting me

horns blaring
they scare the dog into barking
they scare the self destructive whispers into screams

Rose Nao Nov 2016

My mind slips away and folds and turns as it glides its lanky way
to somewhere I can truly be loose and not trapped.
Not trapped. Trapped.
I’m trapped in this big universe and there’s nothing else outside of it.

I feel like I’ve traveled to the end of infinity
and sin can’t touch me at this point
because my sins have been crushed and separated
like my atoms when I’m in this plane of the universe.

But, even though this physical box can kill my body,
it’ll never harm my soul. But, I need to think smaller.
If I can’t get out of this universe, I’ll go back and into the galaxy.
But, which one? Where can I destroy?

Maybe I won’t destroy anything but I will be curious.
I’ll be careful not to destroy on purpose but I might on accident.
if it was a mistake, it’s okay. In this part of the galaxy,
sin exists.

The closer I get to a galaxy, to a solar system, to planets, to an Earth,
my body twitches and my hair stands up. I start to become restless
and an empty gray area spaces out my stomach.
I start to get the strangest urges and I’m not disturbed by this.

I seem to want more and I’m more bored. And it’s so quiet and
I have so much power in this quiet and in this dark.
When I walk around, I’ve never wanted to be crucified more than now.
Do they really hate me? Am I really this scary?

In a blink of an eye, there was blood on me and I could smell the control.
This disease of wanting more and to hurt and I can’t help it.
I hear them screaming out but don’t you want to feel my power?
I bet you hate me now, I know you hate me now.

Was this worth it? Would I do it again?
Give me a crown and let me continue to reign over this flesh filled
planet. There’s always someone who will make me hesitant to
finally cut into their skin. But can I stop the image of rope and wine?

I can’t recall the last time I even tried to listen to anyone
and I want to be the one who makes sure you get to bed
and that you are tucked in. I want the last touch, I want the last glance,
I want the last taste. I’ve got the sickest picture of you in my mind.

Let me feel the pain I inflicted on you and then you can feel a peace of mind,
and I won’t be the death of you anymore.
Why would I be anyway?

Finally, I get to the edge of this sinful and lawful planet,
and I find an empty void of dead bodies and the smell of musk.
An awful smell, an awful feel. But it’s comforting.
My eyes water and I hoped there’d be something meaningful at the end.

Even at the edge of this planet,
even at the edge of this galaxy,
even at the edge of this universe,
there’s still nothing.

A kind of part three (I guess) to Mankind's Habit and Keybindings and the Right Controls. Still Noah, still the same perspective. Maybe, these compulsions make him more human. He's struggling with extremely violent compulsions. I'm tagging this one as NSFW because I feel as if it deals with sensitive topics such as death and wanting to kill, etc. Again, this isn't my confessions or any urges I have. This is about 95% fictional and 5% loosely based off of someone I know.
Roar Oct 2016

I. Homeroom: His eyes piercing into mine, trying to melt the coldness in them and he says "Your eyes...they always look tired", I opened my mouth but before I could protest, he interrupted "Actually, not just tired...they look Dead." I just nod.

II. The question  'would you date me?' is passed around during lunch. "I wouldn't date you, no offence, you are just too... damaged." No offence? I'm broken, dented, tainted with a tattered soul, that no one wants to nourish nor revive once more.

III. Last period of the day: You asked to draw something on my hand. Full of hope, I submissively said okay. I regret that because here I am washing away the ink you slashed my arm with in a cluster of repetitive lines. "Don't forget to go over this when your home" you said, I died a bit inside and now even though it's not there anymore, the ink sinked in and settled beneath my skin, I want to claw and scratch at it until I bleed it out.

Everyone deserves better than this
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