It is as if a wave of tranquility passed over me this morning. Still numb. However, the strenuous longing to feel has dissipated. The wounds have be temporarily cauterized. No empty pain lingers in the darkness like a phantom menace. I felt nothing before, But I knew I was in pain. Now the nothingness consumes any lingering obscure thoughts. I am the hollow man; Such a fragile shell I carry on burden bones. But tis a pleasant day indeed. Thunder storms barrage the sky in open warfare and ominous tear drops soak the battlefield. For once I am not the fool weeping alone; The world takes my place, my pain, my suffering, and I revel in the warmth of it's tears as any good sadist does.
Poetic pros I write in my journal that I reveal to the world in snippets.
I love you. Since I saw the cracks in your bookshelf, Your graceful hair intertwined with your shoulders, The way you throw your head back and laugh. If you are Juliet, I am death, And I wonder how the snake felt, Knowing he allowed Eve the apple. I should hold my forked tongue, For I know you would care for no, Walking nervous breakdown. Who could? But this agonized black mass, Writhing inside me, where my heart should be, Barely living, barely dying. Masquerading passion, good will. I just need you to shoot it.
Shattered glass on marble sand, I feel heat spread on my palm. Like tiger stripes to the beat of a, Foreboding distant death psalm. Enforcement of an oblivious executioner, Unloving of a careful dawn. My heart, my soul, my love isn't for me, It's for something I can't act upon.
Do you ever just have those moments When your heart turns black and rots Your mind gets high on the angst The suffering is all you need And you want it... more of it Listen to gruesome, terrible songs Sounds of screaming and pain Loss and grief wrap you like a blanket It hurts but you’re at home It’s dangerous but you feel safe And then the moments come more often Blurring into days... weeks... Until you’ve lived in your agony for months Begging for something more Tell me a story Tell me of death and tragedy Tell me of self destruction It’s addicting to me
I seem to grow in ever direction, With new branches sprouting from every pore They do not need the sun To be true, They grow faster in its absence. My photosynthesis feeds so greedily, It consumes light. Yet the feast never stops, continues With invisible source. Light is the appetizer, Smiles the side With darkness bringing Endless entrees. Crunch! Crack! Snap! Snacking smacks fill the empty air. My skin crawls as my mold, Spreads and consumes. My own movement sickens me. I am disease.