Have I, perchance, metamorphosed into a devil?
Or do I wade in the slow currents of transformation, inching towards such darkness?
This change of my soul haunts me, casts doubt upon my existence as a being of flesh and bone.
For within, I sense no pain, no guilt, nor remorse,
When my tongue wields daggers of impudence, my words crude and abusive.
Verily, I long for these mortal shells to retreat from my presence,
To keep their distance as one would from a plague.
Is this the aftermath, then, of betrayal, a betrayal wrought by hands I once trusted?
This world, inhabited by insolent beings, claims existence as complex and full of agony.
Yet, how cunning are they, to hide their sins,
Masking the slaughter of innocence in souls beneath the veil of life’s curse,
And adorning their graveyards by weaving tales of love and tragedy in the deepest crimson ink.
Numbness enshrouds my entire flesh,
And I long for the piercing wail of these desensitizing emotions to tear my chest,
Even at the cost of my annihilation.
For I do not wish to be alive anymore because life has forsaken me eons ago.
I am now cursed, my neck bound by the serpent of coldness, its venom coursing through my veins.
Blisters mar my fingertips, and the bones of my spine ache as I hunch over my weathered quill,
Penning countless verses
In search of the tattered shreds of my sanity amid commas and colons that may yet remain within.
But each prose’s end becomes a question, inquiring the purpose of my continued breath,
Punctuating my verse with a query rather than an end.
How shameless of me to craft fireworks of art from the agony inflicted by these mortals!
Oh, I beseech the heavens for the liberation of my soul from this earthly vessel,
To journey far from this realm of demons disguised as men.

My head says go,
but my gut says stay.
Please tell me that you don’t want me to go.
Let me stay by your side.

No matter how many mountains I write of, every word speaks only of you. Waking from a broken dream, regret lingers with each return to consciousness.

An ice floe made of gathered up snow
that fell over thousands of years:
The snow’s source water had achingly grown
from billions of sweat drops and tears

But now the floe turns and starts to flow
in rivers of thawed out heart-ice
and emotions once caged start to angrily glow —
An avalanche loosed from its vice

The glacier crashes, a tectonic shift
as mountains of blue-white burst the dam:
The inland is transformed by dramatic drift —
Who will find new order in the break of the jam

the mountains cry
as you weep for a love
you knew only in dreams
a mirage you concocted
a smokey appearance
you took for real life
the world can't touch what isn't
and you can't touch what is

Woke up late with
blood stains on
my face.

Don’t know what
the **** happened,

and I don’t even
care anyway.

Getting up and
getting around,

work is all I know
in this pathetic town.

It’s all the
same sh*t,
different day.

Who the hell
is still around

here anyway?

Stuck with a crazed
roommate,

who reminds me
of an ex

who just won’t

get the ****
outta my face.

I’ve had enough,

and man,

I give up,
like wow,

I’m getting
out of
this place.

My parents use to
Beat me and scold me
Just so, that next day
They can shower their love.

My father use to
Hit me and tell me how useless I'm
Just so, that next day
He could say how much he cares about me.

My mother use to tell me
How much she regret for having me
Just so, that next day
We can share our feeling and gossip about other.

They use to tell me
That they hate me the most
Just so, that next day
They can fulfill my wish.

Now I got use to of these
I chased the people who hurt me
Just so, that next day
They could protect me

Coz every thing happens in the same manner
I did all this
Just so, that next day
Everything could be better.

Laugh.
Smile.
Don't pay attention to the pain of depression.
Don't brood on the things that force emotional concession.
Try to act average, don't draw attention.
Remember, seeing a loved one suffer can be harder on others.
Like thick smoke in a house, it brings tears and it smothers.
So when you feel empty, put on a smile.
It won't help yourself, but it might spare some pain for your sisters and brothers.
Just because you feel it, you don't have to show it.
The pain can be non-contiguous if no one else knows it.
Just make no important decisions while you're feeling below low.
You can't take that route, that's not how I'll go.
Just fight the good fight, and try not to cry.
That just makes things worse, I don't know why.
You have Hope, just keep the Word in your heart, and your eyes to the sky.
Things will be painful but this too shall pass.
Life is good, even though I feel low.
Keep this in your head:
Feeling low and alive, is better then getting high and then dead.
Yes, it seems obvious, but it had to be said.
If you keep these notes stored up in your head,
Then you'll seem less abnormal, more average instead.