It seems like everyone just wants to disappear.
left alone, secluded, isolated from what is far and near.
It seems like everyone just wants to be thought about.
Have people wonder where they are or what they’re doing, but no one can get the secrets out.
It seems like everyone just wants some time alone.
To take a breath of fresh air and heal the wounds that haven’t been sewn.
It seems like everyone just wants to run away from their problems.
Hiding behind wooden doors and glass screens, wanting out from the hell it stemmed from.
It seems like everyone just wants to concentrate on their dreams.
Hidden in another dark house while the other is waiting to pop the party streams.
It seems like everyone just wants to let go.
But they struggle to take out the knife that pierced their heart from the person that loved them so.
I want to disappear.
left alone, secluded, isolated, but I’m too scared to lose the people that are far and near.
I want to be thought about.
Have people wonder what I’m doing or how I am, but no one cares enough to get my secrets out.
I want some time alone.
But every time I’m alone, I’m engulfed in an overcast of shadows reminding me of the wounds that I have never sewn.
I want to run away from my problems.
But there’s always so much more coming and every corner is another hell where it’s stemming from.
I want to concentrate on my dreams.
But I can’t sleep, I get nightmares; I cant breathe, I never asked to, and I know wherever I’ll go, they’ll welcome my death in with popped party streams.
I want to let go.
But I keep twisting the knife in my heart that has been severely wounded by many who claimed they loved me so.
So I go on a hiatus, and give the perception that I’m not here.
So that people wont care when I take my own life, and I wont have to second guess my fear.
The unequivocal master,
who is not a captor,
wishes to those
acts of eternal blows.
Racing through their own
written down on stone.
The master loses virtue as they
stifle the black and white into grey.
God is nothing but stone!
Altruism fades as reality
becomes fantasy that
enters endless facades
of harrowing applause.
Weakness strives for repression,
but manages to remain obsession.
All is lost in eternity of recluse,
tantamount to abuse of self.
The master has ended their reign.
The fires of passion blend in with rain.
Control comes as a reckless attempt
of a serendipitous increment.
You thought you were powerful!
What are you but seeking the joy
in thinking you are masterful?
Audacity blends in with omnipotence
that is mauled with its essence.
The setting sun bores no more surprise than its sudden demise.
And now I'm scared of driving anywhere
Because every person walking
And every car
they're going to kill me
And every ditch
they need company
Still covering myself
In a thick blanket
A mug of
Hot chocolate would be nice
Next to me would have been better
Have you ever think of
Me at this kind of moment
Touching your skin
Gives me comfort
Having you close
Makes my heart feels ease
Looking at your smile
Never been better
Most of the time
Can't even imagine
How's my days
anxiety would come and say,
"ah, it's a perfect time to destroy your life!"
at any time,
at any where,
at your best, happiest mood and it would just make you feel like you'll become nothing, you're a disappointment to everyone, and you don't deserve to live,
and all you can do is nothing but crying.