BurningNothing makes sense anymore.
The world is mashing together
in a swirl of endless colours,
colours so bright they could
knock a person out.
seems to be as it once was,
draped in a curtain of black
and grey. The cover has been
pulled back, revealing the
to me now, more than ever before.
Why did I sit arounf snf waste
time, moping around like I once
you have a wonderful After to be
exploring! This life is so diffe
I Am A...I am a survivor
Because I wish to survive.
I am a dreamer
Because dreams are my break from reality.
I am a lover
Because I yearn to love.
I am a seeker
Because I will seek for my joy.
I am an observer
Because I can observe my enemies,
and know the score.
I am a killer
Because I kill to save others.
I am a hunter
Because I will hunt for truth and lies.
I am a decider
Because I can decide if I can trust you.
I am a teacher
Because I teach the future.
I am a student
Because I still learn.
I am a fighter
Because I do not believe in surrender.
I am a hater
Because the world dispises my spirit
and wants to bring me down.
I am a rebel
Because when the world spits in my face,
I will spit back.
I am a leader
Because I refuse to break down.
I am a wise one
Because wise one's understand lies.
I am a child
Because I can still laugh at other's stupidity.
I am an adult
Because I can put up with you.
I am innocent
Because my heart throbs with ignorance.
I am robbed
Because I still feel the pain.
Does a Angel need Wings?Do you need to be a demon in order to take a life?
Do you need to have a halo and wings to be considered an angel?
Does life need to be called a monster if it takes lives,
But we take lives just the same?
Does a beast need a name to be known?
Does a lover need a friend to understand?
Does real darkness lurk in the corner of my dreams,
Or does it watch me amongst the light?
Do you need love to survive?
Do you need a soul to truly see?
Does a heart really need a beat or a thump,
If all it does is bleed and bleed?
Does a true human need to know pain?
Does a true human need to give it away?
Does a true human need to love and hate,
If love and hatred is taken away?
Eyes That Watch MeEyes that watch me,
eyes that don't.
Eyes that follow me,
eyes that won't.
Eyes in my family and
eyes in my friends.
Eyes in nature that
never seem to end.
Eyes that watch every move I make,
every breath I take,
every word I utter and mutter and stutter.
Eyes that judge me, love me and hate me;
Eyes that fear me, loathe me, pity me;
Eyes that want to be me and curse me for existing.
But the eyes that watch me the most,
always the most critical,
are the eyes that
Child of a MurdererThe thrashing of my daddy's screams,
echoing in my ear.
The way that my tears stream
speaking of all my fears.
The thump of mommy hitting the ground
pushes me to my feet.
I ran not to her but all the way around
listening only to my heart beat.
I hit the door running
and ran far away,
my stature anything but cunning,
caring only to escape as daddy begun to slay.
Midnight was when I turned around,
and twilight was when I came inside.
I saw the blood painting mommy's night gown,
and I learned that even a child recognizes someone who has died.
I curled up beside her
hiding within plain sight.
Knowing that daddy was far gone and a distant blur,
and that I would loose both of them, that fateful night.
We found each other in the morning,
those police men and I.
The air of the town full of warning and mourning,
And everyone kept asking me why, oh why?
So that was my story,
hope it wasn't a mess
as the mystery of that night turned quite and gory....
you figure out the rest.
Love is a DiesiesI am a mad-man, nothing more,
Who is too foolish to turn away.
Who dares to knock on the forbidden door,
Who doesn't understand why he decays.
A mad-man who does not understand
The grief the diesies brings.
Who grabs his untrusting loved ones hand,
Who answers when the Grimm Reaper rings.
No medications can cure the illness
Of those infected by the diesies.
For love brings no relief besides numbness
As it fullfils its deadly deeds.
Drowning, suffocating, undeniable death
Is what comes to those who are ill.
Who curse their foolish desires to love
Who try to reclimb but fall to Life's Hill.
I pity thee who falls so easily
Under death's taunting spell.
So maybe I am a fool to love thee so openly,
But I do so anyways, even if it means my
Insanity of the BladeI stand in front of my own mirror, looking at the human being watching me as closely as I watched her. I could see the blade she held in her right hand, long and sharp and silver, dabbed in red strokes of blood, as the girl twirled it between her fingers carefully, mirroring my own movements. I smiled at the girl and she smiled right back. We had met before, many times, and she was always committing the same actions as I was. That brought me comfort, to know I wasn't alone in this battle for skin and sanity.
I watched as the girl moved her blade up and, with a swift stroke, opened up a long, not too deep slice on her arm. I glanced down at my own arm and saw the redness emerging there, the pink of swelling skin, the red drops emerging. Any regular person would find the sight of blood terrifying. But I saw these drops as mesmerising, like red rubies shattered into a million of tiny pieces and rising again out of my skin, their colour tainted with the liquid that flows through my veins.
Am I really okay?"Hey. How are you doing today?"
Alone. Miserable. Depressed. Misunderstood.
Sad. Desperate. Abandoned. Hopeless.
Terrified. Reasonless. Sorrowful. Ugly.
Stupid. Loser. Scarred. Loner.
Disgraceful. Pitiful. Hated. Watcher.
Hater. Homeless. Loveless. Unworthy.
Retarded. Bitch. Slut. Afraid. Alone.
Broken Sea- Sonnet.Waves sliced across the sea, broken and torn.
The boat tried to move, already so late.
The families of the sail ship mourn,
those poor people were doomed to meet their fate.
Souls lost forever, stories fondly told,
about the dangers that lurk out at sea.
But watch as I swim over there, behold!
For fear will not take over me!
All of those men perished that cold night,
Lost, lives taken from their grasp forever.
But you and I will continue that fight,
death or survival, we go together.
The sea may kill beyond its ability,
But we live throughout eternity.
I'll Make My Own WayBiting my lips until they bleed
Because there's no one here to kiss them
Sat in the dark because no one needs me with them
Trapped in a cold, dark padded cell
It's meant to be a refuge but it feels like hell
I need the key but I don't even know if there is one
You said it would be easier than this
I don't deserve any of this
Please can someone take me far away from this
Before there's nothing left of me
Because it's just me now
No one else to hold me tight
I'll sing the lullabies to myself
To help me get through the night
And if someone else comes along
To take me out of this place
I'll welcome them with open arms
And a smile upon my face
But don't think for a second that I'll trust you
I've been deceived far too much
I've learnt how to read the hidden signs
Of a lying man's touch
So give me the key out of here
And I'll escape, run so far away
But I won't want anyone else with me
I'll make my own way
Dreaming of those future days
Where freedom will come find me
I'll run away even if th
I Was In A Bad PlaceI’ll indite my crude and clumsy rhymes
From my place in the pitch dark
And will wait all night if needs must
For that one creative spark
That will manifest thoughts in my mind
Into a charged lightning bolt
Strike my memories, open my wounds
And let writing be my salt
So cut me and see the metaphors
Floating around my blood stream
Pour salt on the literal lesions
To punctuate my primal scream
As painful at first as the memory
But after the initial sting
Wounds will heel, leaving only scars
Numbness replaces everything
This lack of feeling is temporary
As a writer I live for the pain
Of opening up new abrasions
To keep me lucid and sane
Deviant words in dank surroundings
Disturbed thoughts I can not waste
I apologise in retrospect
But I was in such a bad place
NightmaresI don't want to fall asleep
I can't bare to close my eyes
I can't stand what's inside my head
Be it made of truth or lies
'Cause when I fall asleep
The nightmares take place
The worst things I can imagine
Scarier than any screaming face
In my dreams
I see you there
But you're hurting me on purpose
And you don't seem to care
I see you with other girls
And you look so happy
And I'm stood there screaming
Telling you it should be me
But you're not listening
You're too busy having fun
I can't get away from what I'm seeing
No matter how much I try to run
I'm seeing you with girlfriends
I've never even heard of
Telling them they're beautiful
As I start to sob
Then I wake up in the dark
And I'm lying here alone
With no one here to comfort me
Just me on my own
You may think the worst part is over
But it's only just begun
'Cause when I go back to sleep
I know I'll have another one
Nightmares that leave me crying
When I wake up in bed
Wishing every night
That they would stay out my head
But I kno
Sorry“I’m sorry” are two words I find my frightened self saying.
More than once actually.
I have a tendency to repeat myself when I’m jumpy.
Or when I’m busy bawling my eyes out.
“I’m sorry” are two words that often I say for no reason.
Even when an apology isn't needed.
I have a tendency to repeat myself when I’m jumpy.
Or when I’m having an anxiety attack.
“I’m sorry” I find the girls like me often say.
When they can’t seem to find the right words.
Or do some trivial mistake.
“I’m sorry” is something we all seem to say.
More than once actually.
We have a tendency to repeat ourselves when we are jumpy.
Or are having an anxiety attack, from some trivial mistake.
I'm still screamingI am still alive but now I’m barely breathing,
I’m crying out for help but no one seems to hear it.
Can’t you hear me in the night?
Or are you choosing not to hear it?
I’m slipping through the cracks but no one seems to see it.
You want me to be okay, you want me to be fine
But I am faced with a cliff that I am too weak to climb.
It kills you to see me this way,
With lost eyes distant and far away.
Desperately trying to hold on,
I 'm falling through the cracks
But I am too tired to carry on this way,
Like a ghost that can't be saved.
Like a soul that can't be healed.
My life is draining through my veins, my heart is tearing at the seams.
You are afraid to hold me now, afraid my fragile bones are going to fall,
You want me to be stronger
But strong is something that I can never be.
My fingers are slipping on the rock face,
I am losing my grip more and more every day,
Plummeting into the darkness, further and further away.
My skin is scar
DepressionI feel it
clawing at my skin
digging at my veins
underneath the fabric of my nails
my skin crawling as its canvas
the teeth gnawing at my legs
I am a sinking ship (by my own destruction)
cast away the life boats
but will always
be stuck out at sea
so lonely but has many friends
so unhappy all I am are scars
numb to affection
except to the feelings that kill me
I am breaking
I'm so sorry
Mom Dad Ianmyself
FragileI know that you're broken,
And all your pieces are scattered,
I know that you're bruised,
And your pale skin is battered.
I can see the scars,
That you're trying to hide,
And I can see the hurt,
Burried beneath your pride.
You're barely holding together,
Your tattered, fraying threads,
The harder you try to keep it in,
The more the hole spreads.
Stop trying to battle alone,
When I'm here with sword in hand,
I can help you pick up the pieces,
There'll be nothing we can't withstand.
Don't give up the fight,
My friend who is so fragile,
Take my hand and let me hold you,
Let me love you for a while.
You think that it's not worth it,
And just want to give in,
So you run the blade down your arm,
Breaking your heavenly skin.
I wish that I could show you,
How much you mean to me,
But you just push me away,
And wallow in your debris.
Why can't you see what I see?
I think that you're amazing,
I love your scars, and your wounds,
And your eyes that are always blazing.
I am giving you my all,
Rusty CageDon't perch me upon a cotton cloud
Or quarter me by the country lake;
No fields of grain inspire me now,
Nor misty hues above the creek.
I have seen too many daffodils
And belle bluebells too pall my soul,
These mockingjays do not arouse
A drop of woe, a drip of joy.
Instead set me off upon a barge
Where the shadows meet, by day or night;
Off to a shade where silence unites
With her soundless charms of quietude.
And leave my haunt with little tint
A monochrome wind, a fickle farewell,
And write to me once every fortnight
From the confines of your recent grave.
And here let there be no robin's song,
No blackbird's lay, no warbler's hymn,
Leave me be in my rusty cage:
The throne of human creation.
With or Without YouYou have been standing there behind this glass for a long time
I see you standing there, wanting to be free
Wanting to be free from your own situations
I see you waiting there for me to return
Nothing more than an emotionless face
Just starring there, a glare of emptiness
Now, only if I can make a smile
Only if you can believe me that I still care about you
Only if you can believe me that try my best to cherish you
Only if you can believe me that we can make this work
Look deep, down in your heart
There is pain that you have
Pain that is unbearable but you still carry it
But it is neither a pain of misery nor a pain of sadness
It is a pain of missing, to be without
It can't be irreplaceable
All you have is hope, hope that something will change
A burden to be lifted, no let it be found by joy and richness of others around you
To be fulfill with me
So I put my hand the glass, gently yours comes up too
I feel that you are so close but yet so far away
Looking at your long black hair, your
I Was Once Told My Heart BeatsI was once told my heart beats
But how can I be sure
When my soul feels so empty
No sound so pure
As the reverberation of life
Beating in my core
So should i believe them
I'm sure they've lied before,
They said you only die once
But I first died when I was four
When daddy snuck into my room
And treated me like a whore,
And they said crying helps
That it sets the pain free
And though i cried every night
The tears never helped me,
They even said wounds heal with age
And though I got older,
Every single day
My wounds only grew deeper,
But I still continued to believe them
Even as they lied to me again
Telling me I'd find someone
Who'd save me from my pain
Someone who'd love me
For who I am
Not what I am
And past what's happened to me
Though I've searched and hoped
Believing what I was told
I was never enough for anyone
And my heart grew cold.
I was once even told
My heart beats
But that seems too lovely to believe.
Lousy Tips for Writing1) Trim your nails. Those little clumps of dead cells and protein are evil. This varies for every person, but as an avid pianist and amateur violinist, it’s always good to keep your most important tools sharp—or in this case—flat. Having long fingernails reduces accuracy and confidence in placing your fingers on the keys. One false move, and it’s a slip! You might even end up with a typo. I have a nasty knack of going back and correcting a misspelled word (when I find one), but that throws me off balance forcing me to restart my writing momentum.
2) Unplug your headphones. Music is evil. Music without words is also evil. Often, I find myself thinking of other things when I listen to music. I tend to stop typing and start daydreaming. Those daydreaming ideas become really distracting towards what I’m supposed to write. It’s like a filter that bars off my intended thoughts. I can’t have that! I have to focus on what I’m really supposed to b
Suicide Is Not An OptionI find myself weaving the final stitches
Of a noose I have been working on for a while
I swore I’d use it by the time it was complete
If me and my sanity hadn’t reconciled
Each thread representing a flawed emotion
Which tightly woven together makes up my life
If you’re the one to cut me down from the rafters
Love, patience and understanding must be your knife
I find myself with a gun in my right hand
With only one bullet left in the cold chamber
I hand the loaded pistol with safety off
Blindly in to the hands of a complete stranger
Does this represent me opening my heart
And risking a life of abject, dismal sorrow
This God given gift of love is worth the risk
And cupid’s bullets can pierce deeper than arrows
I find myself perched on the edge of a cliff
And at this point in time I am feeling unsure
If the wind that’s blowing me towards the verge
Is real or in fact just another metaphor
That is representing all of the worries
Which try to push me to the seas
We're All Tired HereMy old clothes don't fit like they used to,
They hang loose like a noose in this broken picture frame around my neck.
I'm walking down this little road to this little diner
In this little town where dreams go to die, where the train of thought wrecks.
I'm standing in the middle of the paved path feeling the heat through the soles of my shoes
Because I'm so fucking cold while the sky in this little town sings the blues.
No one else sees the clues even though the notes are falling from the skies like they're falling in love with the ground.
This town is such a poetic sound.
A million poems hide under the roads
And in the basements of abandoned homes if anyone cares to listen,
But no one wants to listen to the sweet words caught on the tip of my tongue.
The food here leaves a sour taste, but breakfast is served all day
Because no one in this little town wakes up.
You can see the sleep in their eyes as they pass by,
But we're all tired here.
The waitress sighs. She says "Sit wherever you l
The feelings I can't expressTimes like this when I can’t find the rights words.
Times like this when I find myself crying.
As I have no way to express.
But this pencil twirling in my hand.
Sometimes I’ll make art, and proudly show it.
Sometimes I’ll make shit, and quickly destroy it.
With either I find they both seem to end in the same way.
With a simple message, strewed through long and tedious words.
That could be said much simpler, and probably has.
But still I say it, for it’s all I have.
two-fifty an hour.let me save you the trouble:
because what i'm trying to say is
i'm not a good person.
i don’t tell valerie about how i planned to rekindle
my friendship with charlie’s best friend last year
just so i could get to him and hurt him.
(i don’t tell her how, in the end, i ended up liking
his friend instead, and charlie dated another
fifteen year old
because shit happens and what was i doing,
expecting things to go my way?)
there are certain things she doesn’t need to know,
certain things i can’t say because
putting it into words what it was like waking up,
that sort of shame that came with it –
it was like – it was like looking into a window
and swearing there’s a monster behind it
before, slowly, i realized
it was a mirror.
what therapy promises me: love yourself, forgive but
never forget, tell us your past
then let it go.
what i learn in therapy: nobody has all the answers.
we certainly don’t.
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.
It spreads, like fire,
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.
I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?
What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –
InsanityWhat is insanity?
Am I insane, and everybody else normal?
Or is it as my lover always says, that everyone thinking you're crazy is the sign of your being sane?
People say that imagination is the key to knowledge
Yet those whose minds are overflowing with creativity and imagined worlds are said to be insane.
If imagination and creativity are insanity
Then that creature haunts all the greatest minds in our world.
What is normal?
The people who spend their lives wishing for something more?
If insanity is trying to make those things real
Then I’ve got it bad.
Am I insane?
Can't Find JoyI stole the smiles from both of my parent’s faces
The very same one I was responsible for
On the day I was delivered into their arms
In a cloth, from the beak of a black feathered stork
From the very first day with my very first breath
Though I was not able to speak a single word
It was evident as the nurses bowed their heads
That this boy with the dilated pupils was cursed
Everything I’ve ever grown to love and desire
In one way or another I have now destroyed
Yet still I have the temerity to question
Why it is that I can never seem to find joy
I stole the smiles from both of my parent’s faces
I would do anything at all to give them back
But some wicked actions can never be undone
And some statements I have made I cannot retract
Regardless of the depths that I sank or swam to
Whether I was responsible for what was wrong
My lugubrious mood could always be soothed
With memories of the black feathered stork’s bird song
Every page my trembling hand has ever turned
Dead, Inside and OutI scream, but nobody hears
I cry, but nobody cares
I look, but I do not find
I try, but I do not die
I wake, but I never really sleep
I eat, but I never really taste
I long, but I never really know
I try to stay, but it is time to go
I slumber, but I do not wake
I crack, but I do not break
I gasp, but I do not breath
I swallow, but I do not sneeze
I am floating, through the pale air
I am moving, though I do not care
I am strangled with tears, yet I do not pout
I am dead, inside and out.