I am engulfed in nothing but darkness and light

Fading
Fading away

Pieces of myself shatter into the abyss
Then I wake up

I'm in the hospital again
It's cold and smells strongly of chemicals

The moonlight shines through the window
And shines on my pale face

I close my eyes for a second
And I open my eyes to a small blonde girl with piercing blue eyes

She was obviously a hallucination
But she felt so real

She flung herself onto me
And told me itll be okay

She rubbed my neck
"That rope doesnt belong there"

She, after awhile stood up and looked at me fall asleep

And seemingly joined with the moon

I had a dream
Leaping stone to stone
Above a stream
Beneath me faces
Of the dead and old
Around the mist
Of the silent cold

I ran from place to place
Enflaming candlelight
Step by step along
A never ending staircase
Arriving on the top of
A tower, left alone

Haunted by a wooden rockinghorse
I threw down marble stone

By which I made a sacrifice
To fires burning bright
That saved me with its blazing flame
Within this bitter night

(And when I woke I saw it clear
As morning sun after a storm
My memories I couldn't bear
Still stuck in me like roses thorns)

I lifted my head

From my hospital bed

To find an IV

And some meds




"Am I dead"

I say aloud

"No,

Not yet"




A scary grin on his face

And eyes that lust for my death

He takes a step in my direction

With a knife in his left




"So long my good friend"

He says

With a creepy grin

Just moments

Before my very ****** death

First couple days back from the hospital
And already I am hostile
I see razors and want to bleed out
I see rope and want to hang

This is probably going to be a bad thing

I see socks that make good chokers when knotted together
I see paint that makes good poison when drunk
I've lost my innocence
I've found the ugly side of life

I used to see things as mere objects, not weapons

Staples, used to be just a utility for a stapler
Glass used to be something you sweeped away
Detergent used to be a laundry item
And knives used to be eating utensils

All I see now is suicide

I dream about slitting my wrist open
Watching the red spill from my arm
Smiling as I bleed to death
Sweet serenity

I've been writing notes

One to my friend
One to my brother
One to my teacher
And one to a ex-lover

I've become what I once thought improbable
I've become suicidal

It doesn't seem like
Christmas.
Mom and Dad are gone,
the kids are grown; There's no
snow on the ground, and
I'm in the psych ward again.
There is a dead dog loneliness
about the place.
All the patients are asleep,
and it's too early to get
my medicine.
Coffee has replaced
***** in my diet, and
I feel like I'm in a
battle without a shield.
Even the pen I wield
isn't as sharp as it
used to be.

Hey sickness
When will you go?
You’ve make me weak
And I can’t sing no more

Hey sickness
Why do i feel so low?
My organs are failing
When my poor soul died long ago

Oh sickness!
Have you got good intentions at all?
You give me all these pain
I’ve no energy left

Dear life
Now please spare me
Let me rest in peace
Inside the little heaven I’ve made.

Hook him up to the machine.
Shock his brain into
mediocrity.
Death stalks him;
he is aware.
There is too much
flash in his eyes.
His brain needs a reboot;
he needs to forget,
like a goldfish, like
a monkey in the zoo.
Hook him up to the machine.
He is too sentimental.
Salmon swim in his blood;
he has a paisley heart,
and a tie-dye soul.
He can smell colors.
Hook him up to the machine.
He has Van Gogh eyes, and
a Bukowski gut; he walks
like he's lost in a maze;
hunchback sadness,
butcher knife nerves,
Hook him up to the machine.
He believes in love,
and has too much trust.
His vivid green memory
is a curse, we need to
crash it, **** the eternal spring.
Hook him up to
the machine.