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Somebody told me I could fly.
I believed them.
Somebody told me I was worth it.
I believed them.
Somebody told me I had a purpose.
I believed them.
Somebody told me I was beautiful.
I believed them.
Somebody told me I was loved.
I believed them.

Or so I told them.
Because the demons in our HEADS never shut up.
They never rest, so in turn, neither do we.
They draw out their ugly claws.
You feel them dig deep into your skin, locking into place.
They see you as their first love.
The kind of love no one ever forgets.
And they SCREAM.
Ear piercing screams driving straight down into your SOUL.
And silence...
Then...
Someone tells you you can fly.
"You'll fall."
Someone tells you you're worthy.
"You're worthless."
Someone tells you you have a purpose.
"You're useless."
Someone tells you you're beautiful
"You're uglier than us."
Someone tells you You're loved.
"By the darkness lurking in your head. Grab the knife, honey."
I have not changed
The same memories haunt me
I have not escaped
The same monsters chase me

The words still play in my mind
The boat is sinking
They have never been kind
I am overthinking

I am not the captain of this boat
I cannot outrun these nightmares
The cries stuck in my throat
My eyes dry of tears

Recovery is brutal
Is trying futile?
Time’s illusions, guiding humans
Right into our disillusion.
I'm subdued by lies disguised in truth.
It's hard to find solutions.

Mind's declining. Bodys movin'.
Don't know how or why I do it.
Why's the mind a bad influence?
I just might be High and clueless.

Fight to tighten all my loose ends,
Lest the darkness tries to move in.
Just to find, my skin is too thin.
Poisoned lungs might get me through it.

I'll hide like elusive mutants.
With a new sense, be a nuisance.
If I don't die by seclusion,
I will die by institution.

A product of my bright excuses,
Mass produced and distributed.
For myself, I've become too dense.
I cannot see through my new lens.

Highly likely high and too bent.
Likely slightly quite diluted.
Feed me bombs or shiny bullets.
Strike me down with lightning toothpicks.

Lie me right beneath the tulips.
Diving through the tides of prudence.
I find humankind is useless.
But I'll bite my tongue until the—

Malocclusions make me toothless.
Daylight dies as night seduces.
Tell myself that I can do this,
Yet, I've tied a thousand nooses.

Poisoned lungs. I'm high and too bent.
Poisoned lungs. I'm high and clueless.
Poisoned lungs. I'm so diluted.
Poisoned lungs. I'm such a nuisance.

Poisoned lungs through tides of prudence.
Poisoned lungs. There's no excuses.
Poisoned lungs. Thought I could do this.
Poisoned lungs and tying nooses.

Poisoned lungs. Tighten my loose ends.
Poisoned lungs won't bring me new sense.
Poisoned lungs as night seduces.
Poisoned lungs beneath the tulips.

Poisoned lungs won't get me through this.
Poisoned lungs won't get me through this.
Poisoned lungs won't get me through this.
Poisoned lungs won't get me through this.
Limes Carma Jul 10
I woke up wired, heart beat fast,
told myself this time’s the last.
Lines on the sink, shame in my head,
texted some lies, stayed in bed.

The crash is gone but not the mess,
some days I still can’t catch my breath.
I stay away from what the old me craves,
and that part is still digging its own grave.

There were nights I almost called it quits —
and if the ceiling of my old apartment was strong enough,
I wouldn’t be writing this.
White lines on the desk
Black lines on my neck
If the ceiling didn’t let
I’d probably be dead


© Copyright 2025 - Limes Carma
star Jun 29
i don't know 6.28.25 (7:00 pm / 19:00)
i don't know how else to do this
i don't know any other ways to bear it
i don't know how to feel better

i only needed pain i could understand
i only wanted to know why i was hurting
please
it's not my fault

is it?
oh **** i did it again
I'm sorry you know me.
I'm sorry your trust is wasted
On me.
Im sorry I lied to you.
But I am as good as an anchor for a drowning man.
I'll only bring you down
Again.
I cover up my relapse around someone i love. I'm sorry, K.
Nobody Jun 11
god, i'm so sorry
last time was really close
i'm doing better now
i promise

just don't look under my sleeve
and it'll all be okay
In a dusty magic orchard, my soul lost its worth.
Where a garden of poison fruit called from the Earth.
There, a tree stood, it was beautiful and dark.
But when the glare from the moon revealed me to its bark,

Its branches took hold. I knew I was ensnared.
Ripped out my intentions, as dust filled the air.
Its trunk overtook me, no matter my strain.
I was trapped in a euphoria, divine and insane…

Beyond the veil of roses, we know of the thorns.
That omnipresent sting of need, that slowly adorns.
All beauty seen, only masked an ugly face.
In a statuette state, watched my world shift its shape.

Each petal a facade, each leaf was a lie.
This enchanted tree, has now silenced my cry.
My soul, now ensnared to its beautiful spell,
My search in desperation, formed a path straight to hell.

Deep In this garden, I remain without vision.
Controlled at its will, my roots bound in addiction.
Only one tale unfolds for my soul. I’m too deep,
As my cries become screams, I’m as silent as sleep

Adore not this garden. oh sad, starving heart.
For this magical garden will tear you apart.
Never eat from her harvest. Never mask your own dread.
Run far from this soil feeding my life to the dead.
Nobody Jun 2
please not again
this is happening to fast
i don't want to lose all my progress
relapse relapse relapse.

the blade is too close
i'm so close to a collapse
i'm trying to not fail
relapse relapse relapse.

my breathing is quick
recovery is full of traps
i trip on a wire
relapse relapse relapse.
it hasnt happened so far but i'm scared i just feel like something awful will happen if i dont
This room was taught to hold its breath,
When I return through sideways doors.
It never asks for confessions or depth—
Just witnesses how silence feels as thorns.

The world outside is daytime hinged.
But my world was stitched in neon dusk.
A phantom fang lives deep within
And bites each time I build my trust.

I move in patterns, accidentally bound—
In rituals of coping that lasted too long.
The hours know where I'll be found—
Beside myself, unwillingly wrong.

The ***** laundry I clean but don't.
A second shadow nailed at my heel.
The lamp that needs a light disagrees.
Between being fake and being who I feel.

I keep it clean—or clean enough—
My eyes are dry; my voice is clear.
My morbid truth, dressed in common fluff.
Always finds a way to disappear.

The soul—if that’s still something I hold—
Is brined in need, like selfish sin.
This isn’t wanted or considered bold.
  It's survival masquerading as skin.

I never meant to dig this much,
My lack of harmony buried in song.
But a body that's balanced upon a crutch
Is still a body—just not as strong.

I’ve made a friend with myself detached,
Though he eats a lot more than he feeds.
Whispers like he knows he's an accident.
This teaches me, what my own silence means

The habits aren't even the worst of me—
It’s what remains when they're gone.
The way my lungs choose not to breath.
Choosing not to breathe all on their own.

So, I exist in the lowercase,
Half-typed and never quite complete.
But even glitches need their place—
So here I am, on loop. On repeat…
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