Always clinging onto
It wasn't my fault.
The stresses stresses on
And nothing like it
Could ever begone.
It tears me.
You ever rip apart
The flesh of metaphoric
It belongs subjective.
Parallel and defiant.
It belongs to no one.
This continues onward.
Doubting this is it,
The panic starts to set in.
It’s starting again...
Is this my forever?
gold and silver rain is falling
in a cavalcade of mercy
and dusk’s writhing shape
calls out to me once more
dearest, i swear i saw you
and fluttering like salomé
for blood or drink
or blades of grass
we concede to a sweet dream
while your warm breath changes
to a sabre in my memory
I can't seem to shake it
That itch you shouldn't scratch
That turns into a scab
And then you're left with a scar
I can't stop the tremors in my fingers
The aching between muscles
That never seems to leave my mind
No matter how hard I try
I can't face the featureless mask
That I pull on each and every day
That is made of porcelain bone
Cracks beginning to take their shape
I can't grasp the concept of breathing
The air condensed in my lungs like cement
The tight veins in my wrist
Growing bluer by the second
I can't take the sound of silent screams
The ever growing, putrid, infection
The alcohol wipe sliding down metal
Euphoria painted with panic
And then the cycle begins again
Sad thoughts consume my mind again
A single raindrop turns into a storm
Silent thunders roar inside of me
A quiet chaos before it pours
Lightning strikes me with flashbacks
Then exits as fast as my light of hope
Leaving me a pile of burning ashes
Striking faster than I'm able to cope
And yet, the rhythmic pattern of the rain
Somehow, puts my mind at ease
Among the chaos of my clouded mind
The rain seems to sync with my heartbeat
Calmness settles once the storm passes
Its remains soothe my tired soul
Array of colours and puddles of reflections
Marks a healing from the night's cold
I had a dream
in which I was crying
out of control
my eyes were red
hurting like hell
my heart was aching
my arms shaking
my promises breaking
then I woke up
and saw that perhaps
this dream was not a dream
but my relapse
It’s been 3 months since my last panic attack.
Oh, you mean its been one?
A understandable misunderstanding,
For it’s not like I know myself.
One tends to drop the childish habit,
Of gnawing at shreds,
When there is little left to know.
Only so much scent to unmask,
So much ‘purpose’ you can detect,
A sliver of a ‘lesson’ you can collect.
So I’ll stop fiddling with the rag doll,
Leave my questions behind,
Barricade the door,
Crush it shut,
Banish the key,
Til eternity sees
The light of day.
⁃ For it’s not like I’ll ever know myself
The violins are playing their favourite symphony tonight.
The same four bars, a repeated melody;
One so familiar they no longer need to see the notes,
Only to feel them dance
A fusion of opposing keys
All headed in the same direction
Bows slicing the air with fervour
We’ve been here before
Sinisters sound echo in my head
Their subtle forte consuming my being
I no longer wish to feel the notes
Only to see it end
Bows are placed on the stands
The violins have stopped,
Yet the metronome continues to drip onto the counter
the notes continue to dance in the rain
The violins played their favourite symphony tonight.
I wish I had the strength for it to be their last
tonight is the first time in 45 days that I have considered calling to ask to shoot me dead (EVEN WHEN HE CALLED ME TO SAY HE COULD GET ME HIGH AGAIN)
I WANT TO DIE BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T LOVE ME LIKE SHE USED TO
but even more because I don't love her at all anymore
I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD EVER HAVE TO FEEL LIKE THIS AGAIN
you said you could only love me sober
BUT WHAT DOES ANOTHER KEY TAG MEAN TO SOMEONE SO ******* DEAD INSIDE
YOU CRIED THE LAST TIME WE KISSED
and I didn't want to use behind it
BUT I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW STUPID I FEEL BECAUSE I STILL DREAM OF THE WAY YOU USE TO PRESS SMACK INTO MY WRISTS
AND HOW ******* **** YOU LOOKED WITH MY BLOOD STILL ON YOUR LIPS
and maybe this has more to do with the fact that you only ever made me feel lonely
AND I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF DOING THAT ALL ALONE
so this is about the next time I don't answer the phone
and you can thank the rig on the top of my book case
I won't admit this in the morning
And I know,
'Just one last time'
Has been uttered too many times,
Over these white lines,
But whatever kills the cravings,
Sweet amnesia - drag me deeper,
And wrap me up,
Cocoon me in your sweetest daze
Take me on my favourite ride,
And bleach these teardrops dry.
I knew this time would arrive again;
My weighted eyes and tired insides;
My not so central nervous system set awry,
With twitching fingers and flickering eyes.
Tell my mother I'm sorry.
I'm at the doctor's door again,
To me this is no surprise.