I grew up in a blue house.
I never knew it, but I loved it.
When I was younger I had a dog named bob.
I knew I loved him.
I was walking bob when hailie left.
She never knew I loved her.

Little by little the pieces of this puzzle fell apart.
And they wonder why I relapse.
They wonder why I can't "just don't do it."
They wonder why I dream all day.

They wonder why sobriety is the my handicap.

The snow was heavy. It wasn't a storm, it didn't come down hard, but over the week the ground became plasterd in that thick blanket he knew oh so well. He lifted some in his palm and tasted it. It was inviting, sweet, yet punishing. He knew the sickness the world would bring but he couldn't resist himself. A snow man threw him a snow ball, and asked if he wanted to go sledding. He bit the bait then slid the ***** and a snow angel he became.

I want to let my tears
wash me clean or
soak me until my clothes
show the ***** truth;
the insides of a vessel
affected by depression are
not always so pristine.

Do not judge this;
you do not know what it is
to haunt your own body,
to have your mind
wage war on you,
you do not know the sound
of your mind pulling 1000 triggers,
the sound of gunshots ricocheting
in your lungs;
you only know that my
breathing is shallow.

Do not call me weak just because
"I cannot stomach
the same meal twice"
when I have swallowed
the same poison
up until this moment in life
where I am learning to spit it out;
I love you, I love you, I love you
Separation, separation,  separation,
suicidal contemplation...

But of course,
tomorrow I'll be here again,
so there's nothing to worry about,
right?


- Crimsyy♡

sweet children, pay attention closely
I'm the voice out of the pillow
i've brought something for you
i've ripped and teared it out of my brest,
with this heart i've got the power
to extort the eyelids.
i sing till the day wakes up
a bright glimpse by the firmament
my heart is burning.

they come to you by night
demons, ghosts, black fairies
they crawl out of the shaft of the cellar and basement
and will see you under your bedding.


my heart's burning

they come to you by night,
and steal your small hot tears,
they wait until the moon wakes up
and press them in my cold veins.

death welcomed me,
But didn't let me die yet.

Sometimes victory is the first step. The turn of a doorknob. The cry for help. Victory is finally getting up to eat dinner after crying silently on your bedroom floor when the weight of the world collects like dictionaries upon your shoulders. It is eating that bowl of ice cream anyway, even when the same voices that have haunted you for years keep attempting to shrink you into a skeleton shadow. It is dressing up in the morning when all you want to do is let scorching hot water carve paths down your spine, forgetting the sound of all the voices you have ever heard because it causes you to wonder just when yours disappeared. It is reading a poem in front of your class, hands and voice shaking like palm trees in hurricane wind. It is realizing that some people will pretend to understand the fire of your soul yet cower in your presence due to the terror of getting burned. It is realizing that you are not immune to this, susceptible to creating madness in the nights you keep searching for, but cannot find, any air left to breathe.
It is admitting you are weak. It is choosing to believe the I-love-yous even when they hang above your head like chandelier glass. It is falling asleep shattered yet committed to wake up anyway. Victory is hidden in the idea that tomorrow, as lonely as today has painted it,


exists.

and it is the worst,
y'know,
that descent into silence,
slow and all at once, they say,
that sudden shaking sadness.

it springs outta nowhere,
see, that pounce, that shadow consuming,
and see,
suddenly you’re hollow.
suddenly you’re gone,
or you wanna be gone—
like my heart’s tryin’ to pound
only my chest’s on lockdown
and no words’ll come out my mouth;
see now,
it just seems
there ain’t nothing i can do.

nah, see, i’m sorry, just—
some days,
i am consumed.

A day in the life of an alley cat, struck dead on the least busy street in the smallest town in Nebraska.
1 am: Druggy, *** you money, ******, don't deserve love, not easy to tell mom. I think of you. Your lungs are begging for my scold. Control is the word you use when no other fits the sentence. You occupy my mind when I am restless, testing the limits of kindness and low voices.
4 am: Your smile, the warmest hot chocolate of your eyes, your knuckles, the baby fat that melted from you, it haunts me. It's like I caught of a glimpse of the wrong angel, the half rotten, beyond gone, but still glowing angel. I killed you with a .45 and a gallon of mouthwash. You dripped into the Earth as a puddle beneath my toes. Gracious Lord, do not forgive me. I know I don't.
8 am: Insomnia without poetry. Tired without body. Maggots without mouths. Catholic priest, without sympathy. God without mercy. Drug abuse, without the realization of undignified addiction. Suicide without the comfort of killing, certainty.
3 pm: Sentiment, true and real, above annoyance and protectiveness. I am now a ghost above a body, finally weightless, finally free of His hands.
6 pm: Joy breaks open like a candy, soft center.
10 pm: Life tears my fingers open, unwraps the flesh from bone like Christmas. I feel my tongue fall out. Dusty antique radios are cleaned, losing authenticity. Their songs scream, sounding a lot like Billy Joel, after the catgut snaps. I feel my mind crawl out of the china cabinet.
11 pm: Nothing. There's really nothing to say at all.

There's a demon in my veins begging to break free
Nothing holding my selfish needs but this biting greed
I'm so doubtful and so weak my mental thoughts can not cope
My willpower has NOthing to  grasp but the lies I often gush to make myself look brave to boast to the world Im greatly cleansed and can do as my friends do
Begin healing and start a new path..
But the curse that gets me every night haunts my life, takes me to the bottom ..
Take grabs my guts and rips and shreds, leaving chaos n decay. Dismantled graves..
Infected sores and mental thorns dragging mystery and mayhem to the onlookers
Showing the truth
Is not a pretty sight nor is my fears and faith in my own morbid core..
Failure and gloom happiness wont boom
Unless I get the guidanceand rehabilitation now
Before I ruin my newest soul my life I carry unseen
To the naked eye
God help me do this right
I crack but can't gain
Disgust

if you looked in my window
you'd see a shattered girl crying
you'd see a broken dream dying
if you saw in that shattered girl crying
you'd see a heartbroken past
you'd see an approaching darkness fast
if you saw in that dream dying
you'd see a thunder storm wail
you'd see a shattered girl pale
if you looked in my window
you'd see memories haunting
you'd see dead hopes taunting
if you stared at the memories haunting
you'd understand why life is scary
you'd understand a sliver of burdens i carry
if you stared at dead hopes taunting
you'd understand my fear
you'd understand why i can't live here
if you looked in my window
you'd see nothing
you'd see running
if you wondered about the nothing
you'd find horrors all your own
you'd find yourself dethroned
if you wondered about the running
you'd find the real reason
you'd find yourself charged with treason

I need you to feel alive
These dusty corners of my heart
Have no melody
I reluctantly fold my heavy arms
That offered no protection against your charms
I always will regard you
As a ghost
You haunt will my footsteps
As I pass through the lonely halls of life
You will never confront me
But your spirit of animosity
Will poison what was once pure
And now I can be sure
All we are is...