Life molds you into a shapeshifting mess.
One stumbles through different tribulations, and the soul diversifies as the years pass.
You turn into different versions of yourself.
It’s like treading through hell, but you taste heaven at the same time.
It’s not a choice, it’s a requirement.
Its like drinking liquid gold. The concept is luxurious, but it kills you so deliberately.
A beautiful solemnity?
Emotions so immense.
It hurts so much to breathe, to exist, yet you need to stay, you stay because of love. We suffer to exert empathy. Love is the cutlass that impales deeply.
It cuts far, it makes you bleed profusely, but it feels so good.
It just feels so good.
Is there a point to it all in the very end?
Happiness seems temporary. Chasing it is like the drop you feel when the veil is pulled from under your foundation; long, scary.
Happiness is the rarest paragon.
The heart, heavy and the mind, full.
Wondering day after day.
Who will understand me, touch me, sense me.
Wonder, keep wondering.
Wonder possesses you.
Wonder keeps watching you.
Wonder doesn’t let go, it comes to watch you die.
That’s the why, that’s the death.
Life will never give you an answer.

My mind has faulty insulation, cracks for thoughts to creep in no matter how hard I try to block them out. Fractures as if from years of wear letting painful memories or cringing moments flood my head wreaking havoc as they soil it all. Regrets plague my conscience, stealing me from sleep, from peace. Keeping carefree out of my reach, to no end. No end in sight.

A.C.

Nighttime.
Cars light up my room.

I count.

The moon keeps me awake,
Beaconing.

I can hear you.

Telling me to do it-
Hurt me, you, them...

Everyone.

Thoughts SCREAMING.
Words begging to become actions.

I close my eyes.

Deep, deep, deep breath.
It's just a thought.

Grounded.

Soft sheets, pillows...
Moon, stars, lights.

It's quiet.

my mind
has parasites
they control
the way i
think, and
tell me to
do things i
don't want
to do .
it's like
two warring parts
of an intimate
*****, the
one that resides
in my skull
two forces of
opposite sides
pushing
against good
and evil .
and i am the
host
once full of life
now quite lifeless
as they take
me over
a shell .
i cannot think
my own thoughts
i cannot breathe my own air
if i fight with
them
they'll just
**** me
instead .

I look, yet I'm blind,

I hear, but I'm deafened.

The radio static in my head is ever so lasting, unfailing.

I can rely on my instability,
my inquisitiveness turned to doubt.

I'm in love, but I can't love.
Have I ever learned to love?

I've always been loved, adored.
When did love become uncomfortable?

I'm the happiest I could've been,
but I'm blind to everything.

My strength is fragile,
I can't live like this.

I can't live when it's me who turns every drop of golden sunshine,
into tar.

Why can't I be happy?
Where are my screws loose?

Have I always been like this?
It can't be love that brought this out.

Something so pure, could not bring this out.

What is it like?
To not lead life with fear, paranoia and panic.

What is it like?
To wake up without sweat, a pounding heart, with a crowded head.

What is it like?
To love another, and oneself at the same time.

What is it like?
To not be me, to not live in constant torment.

What will I do if all the time I’ve spent trying to fix myself doesn’t work out
I don’t really know what’s wrong with me
I’m in therapy
I started taking medication too
I’m worried that I’m wrong about how I feel
What if the thing I’m dealing with is much bigger
For half a year I’ve questioned myself
I thought I figured it all out
But there is doubt in the back of my mind
I don’t know if I’ll ever feel alright

There is nothing I can do
I don’t want to make any wrong moves
What if I’m wrong about all of this
And I make mistakes that are permanent
I just want to feel okay
And not want to die everyday
How do you sort through your thoughts
And figure out why you feel so stuck
On top of all this
I can’t cry anymore
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to
I wish everyday that I’ll reach my breaking point
Just to feel alive again
Finding joy in imaginary things
Feeling hurt by all the things I’m missing

I keep getting thoughts.
The bad, bad thoughts.
Fleeting, passing, ever changing?
I wish!
I keep getting thoughts.
The bad, bad, thoughts.
Sticking, clinging, ever staying.
I despair.
Bleach? Drink it.
Heart? Stab it.
Food? Puke it.
I keep getting thoughts.
The bad, bad thoughts.