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Asominate Jan 2018
Sacrificing
All that I have
Just so I can please you

It's not healthy...
It's not THAT bad
Hand-made torture I go through

Isn't it blinding?
The pain, it hurts much
Psychotic and frightened-
Man, this is so sad

Like sulphuric acid
Not the best to touch
The question that's biting is
Are all my goods bad?

Are all my goods bad?
Are ALL my goods bad?

All this mental dieing...
The life I'll never have.

Are ALL my goods bad?
Are ALL my goods BAD?


Believe me, I'm TRYING,
But my sanity's tad.
...Another hard day...
Carson Sep 2017
She will hold a gun to your head and her name is carved into the bullet, but it's only for her arousal.
She always had a thing for getting into people's  head.

Do you like this?
When I touch you with burnt fingertips?

I'm drawing a map all over your body with blood stained hands and you don't even blink.
You're just my type, twisted and all.

Your skeletal body leaving its imprints all over the plum duvet.
Your scent stings, but it makes me touch myself in forbidden and unholy ways.

Just one thirsty kiss and I will be indulged by his fire.
This is so bad, but it feels so nice.
His flavor is all over my tongue, bittersweet.

I need more.
g Jul 2017
now
i'm not speaking for everyone
just the ones
who are like me

it's not masochism
neither is it psychotic
but the pain we love
and the love we pain

for pain brings us
to new levels of understanding (the self, others)
to greater heights of seeing (the self, others)
to lower grounds with (the self, others)

p a i n
the dreaded four lettered word
l o v e
another dread in another day

the immeasurable love
that brings us
immeasurable pain
and yet we throw ourselves in

for what more can pain/love do
except to make you feel
                                          ...pain?
4:44AM thoughts.
Ayman Zain Jul 2017
She strikes into the hollow night;
Passing by the gloomy street lights
With a touch of eloquent cold breeze;
She tingles, shivers and ceases to speak
Her hair follows like a flying flag
Her rosy cheeks turn into jasmine
Her sesame eyes have become fastened
Her feet so cold they've become numb
Lonely and forlone she has no chum;
She gazes at the spots in the sky
Through her glasses she gazes-
Upon the mountain hill high

Pain

The chains she keeps on fighting;
To wash it off her brain
She rises up towards the hill,
Until she realizes the reflections that she built
Falling down back into madness;
With her blood dripping with sin,
And the rain mocking her mind from within
She drops down on her face;
With the glittering chandelier lights
Washing down her iconic skin,
Leaving every thought in her mind misplaced,
Until the moon rises,
With the stars interlaced.
Leaving her with nothing;
Other than a gun and a pillow
To get that smile back upon her face.
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