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red Sep 2018
there, it pierced my skin.
blood gushes out like fireworks in the night sky.
the pain gave me the life i've been longing.
years of existential dolor, culminating to this.

the sharp, searing pain.
demons in my brain—expunged at that moment.
sordid as you may call me, i have never felt more alive.
how much more is the blackout that follows this?

i want more of this.
the frissons of excitement that i feel in every drop.
i faint to the exhileration, but not before i smear
the tears of red on my face, the floor, my body.

i am now an effigy.
a mannequin, go burn me now and i'll cherish
every single moment of my flesh searing
as i languish in pain, but with a boisterous laugh!

i wanted pain.
life never gave me pleasure—the rapture of being alive.
all it gave me were the torment of misadventures.
i longed pain for so long, i'll savor every drop.

more. i yearn for more.
my visual blackouts are nearing, and the darkness—
it's waiting for me like a long lost brother, unseen.
i am ready to devote myself to a new life.

stop.
i don't want this.
nothing waits for me but an eternal darkness.
the void of which i'll spend the whole eternity.
it's too late.

i hear the door open.

my mom winces in shock.
she lets out a piercing shout
as painful as a bulldozer crushing me into splinters.

didn't you want this?
you've had a vehement yearning for liberation
for so long.
stop
you have no place in this world.
you are a nonentity in this world.
no i'm not
your life is nothing but an illusion.
mom, i'm sorry

the darkness envelops my vision into jet black.
i can no longer think.
what have i done
my brain is shutting down.
mom, i'm sorry

goodbye.

27/09/2018
YH Sep 2018
I realize I am too compassionate;
I feel everything at a 100% rate,
and I loathe it so much.
Why do they come on so strong all the time;
it mentally drains me.

I am destined to die early;
I can't see myself living past my mid-thirties.
I learn how to accept death as it is,
and I am slowly learning how to let go.

I want to cry, I want to scream;
I want to voice out this indecipherable torment inside of me.
But no one will understand,
and no one will know;
this mask of mine can't be taken off.

It is what I desire,
yet I want to scream the truth out to the world;
my alternating flow of thoughts,
my constant battle;
it goes down with me to the grave.

This happiness is an illusion;
There's a second mind that takes over,
and blocks away all of the hopelessness.
It brings forth a temporary elation,
a nonchalance,
a pretentious ease.

Is this better?
Does it make me better?
Or does this delude me to the point
where I become more destructive
and cause more harm than cure?

Why does my mind run so much?
Why does this version of me exist?

Because I am born empathetic.
Because I am human.
Because I hold a great understanding of myself,
and a greater awareness of how I am.

But not behind in the how it came to be.

No one holds the answer, and I am forever left with questioning all these endless why's and how's.

Everything else is left unanswered

perhaps until the day I die.

— Y.H.

the end of the tunnel,
gentle fervor.
my mind drifts sometimes
as though it's sinking deep into the abyss of water
sometimes i'm afraid it sinks so far
that it never comes back up to the surface again
that i would never see the light another time

but maybe there never was a light
and i've been sinking all this while
further, and further
and the sight of light was only once in a dream

(c) Y.H.
Mr.know-it-all gazing far into the future
Pretentiously weeping ahead of time,
realizing then, it was...
some kind of special torture
hoping that he was wrong
on what makes him cry.
I felt my time was running out,
that it would all be over soon.
The desperation of the moment,
made me think through and through.
What truly matters is joy and colour!
And every breath you take and savour.
Try being good to one another,
and keep your mind sharp,
like a whirling saber.
Oh wait! it was not the end!
What is this? i have no end? now i see!
I was just this greedy little thing,
when theres truly no end to me!
We are a cloud of information,
and the ego is our damnation.
Believe! we can be anything!
if we let ourselves be free!
...in this land...of...make-believe...
Ellie Grace Aug 2018
A freedom that’s fading with each wrong turn
Continuing to walk down this cursed path
Completely apathetic to the consequences of these action
Simply not caring anymore
Toying with a life

Playing with fire
Enjoying the pain that comes with getting burnt
I am once again dancing with death
Methodically digging my own grave at the age of 18
Nikki Aug 2018
In the darkness that covers me I can see a few little stars

The brightness that still burns amidst hopelessness, the shame, the self resentment

Little stars still burn to show me

That there is hope somewhere in the universe

Little stars still burn to show me

That I still have time to make this right

I may not have the ability to change your mind - but I can change mine
Jules Aug 2018
i have arrived at a point
of desperate fury;
a final certainty
that there is no longer a sustainable solution;
the realization that god was right
the only way to fix this horror
is to wipe it clean,
flood every sea,
drown everything in saltwater
and try again,
pretending all along we have just begun—

but no,
this time there may be no noah,
no single good survivor
except maybe the ones wronged the most,
maybe only the last of the trees,
maybe only the animals

this is to say:
if the human race went extinct
i would not grieve.
only thank the soil as it swallowed me,
only be disappointed because god,
was this the best we could do?
i would love to return
to a belief of more hope,
the someday-vision
of an earth where nothing suffers
and justice wields her scales like a weapon,
needing no blindfold,

but nowadays i only wonder
how we let the earth become this rotten,
let it get too far
and now the problem seems unfixable.
now, all we have to show for it
is a cumulation of debt
and a system that does not care for us.
death was right:
humans are foolish.
we are so good
at keeping things
when they are already lost,
tying them to our chests with hope
thinking we can save it.

but what better way
to halt the plague
than to raze it all to the ground,
set fire to the rotting at the core,
cut the roots and then restart.

to the child-saints we lost too early,
i pray:
tell god,
burn everything.
we need to try again.
we’re running out of options
Zeyea Jul 2018
The heaviness on my chest,
the strangled breaths stinking of wafting toxicity,
the bloodstains on my hands
from a ****.
My mind is whirling,
and I wonder
if this is it
if this is insanity distorted past reality
if I am truly lost in this labyrinth of twisted smiles and white lies
if I have finally finally turned myself into a monster.
Joshua Michael Jul 2018
She is a trail of destruction
Corruption, a ****** up malfunction
A love full of dysfunction
Playing with your emotions
You've been chosen
Chosen to be broken
But still you sit hoping
You sit choking
Falling while knowing
Asking where is this going
You're hers to play
She won't ever stay
Just leaves you lost
Astray
But at least you can say
"I loved you anyway"
...
MalakF Jul 2018
Sadness isn’t a sickness but I think I’m coming down.
Doctor, doctor I no longer want to be around.
All that I seem to do is constantly breakdown.
Doctor, doctor I think it’s time for me to go.
Cancel my next appointment, I won’t be here tomorrow.
Doctor, doctor you say that sadness is in fact a sickness,
yet you aren’t advising me on how to fix this.
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