Craving interaction
Some sort of relationship
But never finding much
In this caricature of happiness

Lost but still searching
Considering the end
Yet never reaching finality
Without the needed confidence

Ragged cries of 'Help'
So scared, so lonely
Would give anything for a friend
Without the shallow ceremony

Please, help
Loss of common sense
People just aren't worth the effort
The fog of failure is so dense

Realizations in blue ink
Revelations written red
Hopes and dreams in yellow
Lay down and go to bed

Assumptions in bright orange
Bitter feelings written green
Colour scars these pages
Accented in screams

Vibrant hues straight from the vein
And onto the perception of reality
Force the depression down again
Let the façade run free

This isn't life at all
This isn't what should be
Colour scars these pages
The shades of insanity

Reaching out for help
And latching to an apparition
And
              Falling
                                Falling
  ­                                               Falling
                                                         ­          Fading from existence
                                                       ­           
                                                                ­   Hopeless desperation
                                                     ­              Quiet loneliness
                                                      ­             Stark disappointment
                                                  ­                 Life shouldn't be like this
                                                            ­        
                                                        ­           Whispers in the dark
                                                            ­       Of what the end could mean
                                                            ­       Careful consideration
                                                   ­                Let the colour bleed
                                                                ­  
                                                                ­   Hatred marked in violet
                                                          ­         Pain in large steaks of white
                                                           ­        Final blue-inked realizations
                                                    ­               Goodbye and goodnight

Dear Chaus,

Wishing upon that shooting star
For something more than what you are
Heartbreaking as you send your wish afar
But you'll never be more than simply subpar.

Calling out for a goal, an ambition
Reaching hard to make the distance
Running until you lose your vision
Then crashing when, again, you miss it.

Because all you are is a common entity
With not a single redeeming quality
All you are is a lackluster commodity
Thrown away once something better is seen.

Are you lonely yet, does the feeling invade your soul?
Are you lonely yet, now that you feel so old?
Are you lonely yet and has your optimism run cold?
Are you lonely yet, are you ready to go?

Does it crush you in that way that makes death seem sweet?
Does it rend you in the fashion that forces up what you eat?
Does it poison you like smoke that your lungs forever keep?
Does it drag you like nicotine, controlling your feet?

How do you do now, my dear, and those cuts on your arms?
How do you do now, my dear, with no father to bring you harm?
How do you fare, my dear, when all is at peace and warm?
How do you fare, my dear, with the paranoia, the alarm?

Is it too much or just enough, are you running to the end?
It is too good or too bad, will you shun those helping hands?
Is it too loud or too quiet, is love still in your plans?
Is it to nice or to cruel, now do you understand?

As all you'll ever be, you are ending in this moment
All you wish to see that you've smashed on the pavement.
All the time you had that your decisions use as payment.
All the people who've passed that you wished would have come with.

This is what is waiting for you in a year, a decade, a century
This is what is waiting and this is all you'll ever see
Disappointment by disappointment, never quite depression-free
This is what is waiting: anything but content or happy.

So next you feel the call of some obscure way to die
I bid you take the chance, let not another chance pass by
The next you feel fed up and you can only think to cry
Put down your tears and dance and kiss this cruel world goodbye.

Love,
Chaus

Should they next ask
"How
Can I help"
I may say
"Stop leaving marks on me
And I'll stop
Marking
Myself."

Chronically
Ironically
It seems to be
All fallacies
Of things to be
That I'll never get the chance to see.

Jive and jeer
Laugh and sneer
A cough, a wheeze
Laughing at me
And all my pleas
I know in truth I'll never be free

But to clarify, don't let vague by, description of the fallen
Every molecule I'm made of has an infection, a problem.

Is it in my brain, I wonder?
Because even I'm afraid to check.
You've seen my anger, my fury
And my graphic imaginings of death.
And the jealousy that festers
And the perversions that I flaunt
And the lengths I would go
Simply to get what I want.

I've spoken of Misophonia
(God, I hate my ears)
I've explained how every sound
Causes abject anger or fear.
I've talked of how my brain
Just doesn't understand
A single 'trigger' noise and
I've either screamed or ran.

I've discussed my depression
I've described why and how I cut
I explained that my Heart wants blood
Though my Brain screams 'Enough'
I've mentioned my memory lapses
That are no longer quite selective
How the line of my memories aren't
Sequential; aren't consecutive.

I've written and erased just how lonely I am
I've written of tears through tears
I've written of hurt and of love
And even hope, or maybe fear.
I've written my family whom I hate to love
I've written my desire to be owned and kept
I've written my straying from beliefs and religion
I've written ****-themes of what has and hasn't happened yet

I've written my thoughts: why was my life like this?
I've written my thoughts: can I be someone else?
I've written my thoughts: can you change my colour?
I've written my thoughts: why wasn't I born male?
I've typed my heart: someone somewhere is gonna love you.
I've typed my soul: no one needs to see it.
I've typed my mind: you're useless, ugly, crass
I've typed the facts: I'm a *******.

And that's only a fraction of my brain.
Only a portion of what hurts.
That's only a taste of what makes me insane.
A glimpse of a wasteland of dust and dirt.
We'll go no farther there, not today
We've much more to explore.
It's not safe in my brain at all
But, perhaps later, we'll see more.

Now the problem could lie on my skin.
That's riddled with scars and life.
My skin that tells a story
Of pain, of hate, of strife.
My skin, god I always hated it
The color, the scarring, the texture
There's not a **** thing about it
That doesn't make me feel lesser.

My skin, you don't understand
My skin makes me, me.
My skin, you don't comprehend!
Color is all you see.
I was raised to be wary
Of everything, alive or dead
But skin was the selling point
I was the monster under my bed.

My skin explains stories
I never thought to tell
My skin holds trauma
In every atom, every cell
My skin is calloused
From scars and hurt and work
Like an ever-present melody
It's driving me berserk.

But the problem may be in my organs
Perhaps inside my lungs.
I remember at thirteen I felt trauma
And almost picked up and fired a gun.
But instead I chose a lighter and
A stick filled with cancer
Instead I ****** up my voice
Just so I wouldn't remember.

Maybe it's in my heart
With its irregular beating
And the constant stress
Chilling and overheating.
The unending adrenaline
The paranoia never stops
The suicide attempts
I'm sure my heart's about to pop.

And yet I may never know
There's too many issues
Every molecule I own
Needs to be made anew.
This was a checkup
And a shoddy one at best
But should I ever go in-depth
I'll write it all, I'll write the rest.

I ****** away
The knife in your hand
And you begin to cry
As I've betrayed you again

"How much longer?"
You'll always ask
"How much longer?"
And I answer, though this won't be the last:

Just a little longer
Maybe one day I won't stop you
Just a little longer
But for now I can't lose you

I turn off the water
Breathe air into your lungs
And your eyes are accusing
Because I've always won

"How much longer?"
You're screaming
"How much longer?"
Tears streaming, and I say

Just a little longer
What if this feeling fades
Just a little longer
And you want to live someday?

Not yet
Not yet
Not yet!

I wasn't there to save you
If you'd waited just a little longer
You'd still be here
And secretly I wish you'd been stronger