wallowing in self hate
swallowing mine own tears
sadness over mine own fate
madness from mine own fears

chained by mine own anxiety
claimed by the arms of melancholy
tossing and turning to grasp mine own identity
crossing and burning bridges cowardly

this life shows no bearing
this strife feels like God's mistake
surely, suffering should see ending
purely, i wish to be unawake

i would run up to the depths of the earth
i should then be alas free
maybe, a gun to mine own head shall reverse the date of mine own birth
lately, when i call upon the Lord, He does not hear me

All I ever wanted was for someone to listen
I wanted someone to pay attention
To tell me things would get better
And that happiness would last forever
I wanted someone to give me advice
All about my life to notice
I wanted someone to understand
To support and lend me a hand
I wanted someone who'd never leave me alone
To know me from deep inside my bone
I wanted someone to love me
As far as the end of the galaxy
I wanted someone to treat me with respect
To make me feel a little perfect
I wanted someone to make me feel special
And to not make my life seem so small
I wanted someone to wipe away all of my tears
Helping me get over my fears
I wanted someone to be my friend
To always bring my misery to an end

I feel lonely.
But not only that,
I also feel sad.

I feel anxious.
But not only that,
I also feel extremely overwhelmed.

I feel exhausted.
But not only that,
I also feel very hopeless.

I feel like dying.
But not only that,
I really want to **** myself.

There is freedom in isolation,
in being idle and invisible,
where one could sit in muteness,
swim widely in dusk and ask,
"Am I really here,
if no one is around to see?"
A different kind of suicide

There is pleasure in being a shadow,
in pretending you don't exist,
to avoid acting like you do

Solitude isn't a time for me
to let myself free
but rather a time to free myself
from who I am

Outside the confinement of company,
I am anyone and anything,
I am someone else, somewhere else
I am alive,
but I am no one
I am alone

a.r.

i will never be kind again
for people mistaken kindness
for weakness
they see it as an opportunity
to walk all over you
mock you
belittle you
there is no reward
in being kind and humble
people will take advantage
they will treat you like the underdog
cast their insecurities on to you
they say it is free to be kind
that is no truth
being kind is expensive
it will cost you your peace of mind
your mental well-being
your confidence
your self-esteem
your energy is the highest commodity
treat it as such
like the British pound
can't trade with just any ordinary currency
do not be overly kind
treasure your aura
and only share it with those who are truly worthy
for not everyone is your friend
people are full of st
and they will always try to put you down
to make themselves feel better
heed my warning
for i learnt the hard way
that people are full of st

she is a beast you can never feed enough
she keeps coming back for more and more
up to the slightest slither of your soul
she is eternally starving for your state of mind
she will feed and feed on your very soul
whether it is day or night
she will wake you from your slumber
to torture you
she will torture you in your dreams
until you wake
and torture you some more while you're conscious
feed and feed from your very soul with much greed
she will never leave you be
she will forever whisper untruths into your head
unless you are dead
telling you that you are no good
and that no one will ever care nor notice
it will be just you, your subconscious and the unwanted guest
who goes by anxiety
also known as
depression
the shakes
the jitters
the heebie-jeebies
fear of the unknown is what she really is
also known as, your life
ps, you are not alone
we are all twisted
in ways we can't even begin to express
the beast anxiety feasts on us all
and she is eternally famished

i’ve barely slept,
i’m running on adderal and self loathing,
a mix that has kept me alive for far too long.
i’ve barely slept,
i want you to kiss me until our lips are bruised and touch me hard enough that traces of your fingertips can still be seen on my skin.
i’ve barely slept,
i miss the feeling of someone’s mouth on my neck,
the feeling of gentle kisses starting at my collarbone and falling lower and lower and lower.
i’ve barely slept,
i’m running on adderal and self loathing,
when what i really need is to find my relief in you.