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I love music
I promise you

But I'm not
That I truly
It any darker

Or that I was
Really ready

My Lorde

"Hineni, hineni
I'm ready, my lord"
Osiria Melody Apr 2019
His reflection burns, an image of self-loathing
Eyes ridden with insomnia and agonizing anxiety


Tears caress his face more kindly than his mother's embrace, ever so absent from his twenty-three years
She left him and his father when he was two, for his father was a very bad man, a very, very bad man he


He hates himself, anger sets his body afire with scars
Calloused hands strike the surface, cracking the glass into thunder storm shards, making his knuckles bleed rain of suffering


He looks just like his ghastly father, a living apparition
Eyes ridden with insomnia and agonizing anxiety

picks up glass

With a lethargic grip on a shard of isolated glass, he
He tries to, well, tries to do the worst that he can do to himself

The glass shard loses touch with his hand and strikes the longing ground, beetly crimson-stained canvas

Looking up with a startled glare, he saw within him a distorted image, for the mirror formed uneven, jealous patterns


He saw a boy in his reflection, a young lad that he was
That he was before everything in his life went downhill

A scenario played in my head. In this scenario, a young man recalls his troubled past and punches his mirror until his knuckles bleed. The mirror breaks and he tries to become more injured; he quickly changes his mind and doesn't do so.
Isla Apr 2018
is the worst
yet most beautiful
LNI Dec 2017
I don't want to be amused
But I want to be introduced
To a celebration of the fatality
Of my own mortality
Zelos7 Jun 2017
I jumped through billion hoops to get reaction
Yet, through getting it I achieve no satisfaction
The malfunctioning brain brings pain
To my lackluster stumbles through life, filled with strain
And though I try to maintain a facade of "alright"
In this tunnel, it's harder and harder to see any light

Fight back, fight back for the heck of it
Spit, blood and sweat for spilled for the lit of it
Like check your own pulse to make sure you are still alive
Like challenge yourself to not dare to feel deprived

At this moment, I dare to ponder
Of this nihilistic nightmare, am I the founder?
Jack Jenkins Feb 2017
Oh, the sheep have fangs!
   They have buried them
   within my fickle flesh!

They tear and gnaw until
   I am, to the bone, broken.
Woe to me!
I'm looking to open your heart
Not your legs
More men should be following that mentality
But some of us learn the hard way
And feel the emotional fatality
That comes with it all.
Xyns Feb 2015
Now floating up and down
I spin, colliding into sound
Like whales beneath me diving down
I'm sinking to the bottom of my
Everything that freaks me out
The lighthouse beam has just run out
I'm cold as cold as cold can be

I want to swim away but don't know how
Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean
Let the waves up take me down
Let the hurricane set in motion... yeah
Let the rain of what I feel right now...come down
Let the rain come down

Where is the coastguard
I keep looking each direction
For a spotlight, give me something
I need something for protection
Maybe floating junk will do just fine
the jets have sunk, I'm left behind
I'm treading for my life believe me
How can I keep up this breathing

Not knowing how to think
I scream aloud, begin to sink
My legs and arms are broken down
With envy for the solid ground
I'm reaching for the life within me
How can one man stop his ending
I thought of just your face
Relaxed, and floated into space

Into The Ocean
Calvin Watson Jan 2015
A bird this morning sang upon my window sill
And from this I was made to realize
All that was and was not real
The intensity of your stare
The way it made me feel
Until I finally saw
My fatal flaw
Your heart I was unable to steal
EmotionsAreNull Jan 2015
****, I was killed again.
It hurt so much.
But I won't be the one begging.
Now I must bury myself
Back into that sky.
Call me monster,
Call me what you will.
All I know is I won't die still.
I've been hung thirty times.
I've been a victim of horrid war crimes.
Lived enough to fill 500 lives.
Death doesn't touch me.
Like spoiled meat.
This degrading body of mine,
can't rest and won't stay in line.
What did I do to deserve this?
How is this immortality,
When my mind has reached fantastical fatality?
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