the endi trust you with my burning tearsand with all the secrets that I have kepti give them to you for all hope is now gonethe fears have overcome my lifeguilt is now my overwhelming enemymemories of sunsets are forever fadingi embrace the dark as an ever present loverthis embrace of yours sears my soul to the coremy end is now rapidly approachingthere is little left for me to do nowafter all that I've tried for all these yearsit seems like a poor excuse of a lifewhen it is finally over I will still not be at peacemy soul will be condemned to wander eternallyto seek forgiveness from those that I have harmedfrom loves lost and promises that I made that were brokeni drop to my knees and scream at the sky and shoutremove this burden and let me finally be at peace
wheresome of us laughsome of us cryothers ignoreuntil one of us diesthe dark turns to lightclouds move awayrays of lightilluminate the waythe path that was chosen
holidays and hell daysholidays are hell daysthe things that wereperpetrated against mewhile at the very leastwere criminal actsbut more importantlythey removed allhappiness from my lifebeing molested and yesraped on every singleholiday and birthdayfor a four year periodeliminated anything joyousfrom my entire beingi now find excuses to spendsuch days alone with my tearsmy fears and my angeri cannot feel like you dochristmas holds no specialappeal as does new yearseaster is but a time of painand birthdays are days of horrori am and always will be alonemy year holds but 365 daysand none of them are specialthey may be especially painfulbut that is about it they arejust another day for toacknowledge them would beto let him win and by not acknowledgingthem i let him win anywayso my options are to put ona false face and die insideor to just lock myself awayuntil the joyous occasion haspassed beyond existence
Battle Lifeas i sit and enjoy my coffeein the stillness of predawn hoursmy mind suddenly slips into nothingnesswhere it wanders to i haven't a clueIt is in the stillness,when my mind is allowed to roamthat i find myself thinking backto times not acknowledged in the waking hoursbut it is the time not acknowledgedwhich gives me cause to pausefor memories of the past are plagueand i wish not to suffer from themDays gone by, the battlefield,my mind, the perfect enemy,thoughts and feelings attackfrom every corner of my mind.memories are what frightens mei know not what lurks in those cornersshall i embrace this fine madnessor should i just drown the memoriesThe onslaught of attacktorrents my stream of consciousness,so, in defeat, I retreat into my head;there I wait until I am strong once more.
Longing for GraceChaining you downI see your eyes dilateI see your muscles tenseI see everything I want in front of meBut I can not have any of itAll that is within my grasp is but airUnseen forces are holding me back from youI see everything I want in front of meMy vision is messed upNot what it once wasMy need for you has increasedDespite my unwillingness to make you mineI feel the restraints that are holding me backA dense fog clouds my visionThere is a hunger for you that I have not felt in agesAnd I am not willing to succumb to these devicesI don't want to want youAs much as I doI want you to want meFor you to feel this feeling tooMy hunger for you is voraciousAll I need is to hold you within my armsOur bodies pressed together as oneMy whole being aches to be yoursAnd then when you give inAnd press your lips to mineI know that you love meYou were just pretending all this timeMy mind and body are not oneThough our lips are locked togetherMy body is screaming out yesBu
confusioni've finally made up my mindmaybe notis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this is my normali want to be alonei hate to be alonei can't stand the silencei need the silenceis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this my normali know what i wanti'm not surei'm upi'm downi'm all aroundi'm here i'm therei'm every whereis this what they call insanitybipolar maybeand this is my normali'm calmi'm uneasyi trust youi don't trust you...
a ravaged heartoncethere was a soul insidesomething to keepthe shell togetherbut that's been deadfor a long time nowand any vestigesof hold that once werethey are now goneand there is nothing leftto keep me from falling to piecesso my skin rips itself apartto show what little remains insideit solely consists of asmall, frozen and broken heartit used to be a human hearta heart like any otherhere lies what happensto a heart in the real mortal world
some call her Xactoher bodyso long and slenderfits perfectly in my handshe comeswith many differenttypes of bladesshe livesin a comfortablepadded wooden boxshe likeswhen i take her outfor our special datesshe alwaysis prepared for anythinglines, curves or wordsshe ismeticulous abouther cutting edgesshe takegreat pridein her appearanceshe hatesher given name Xactoi call her Opheliashe onlyspeaks to meshe ignores the rest of the worldshe willcompliment meon a job well doneshe saysthat my blood is likea fine wine sweet yet mellowshe hasnever broken a promise to meunlike most of the other womenshe isperfect in all manner and formshe is my Opheliaand I'll never leave her
the sun ... my enemythe sunmy enemyrecharges my mindmy thoughtsbegin to raceway beyond their normthe sunmy enemyrecharges my illnessi begin to shakemy hands tremblei can't focusthe sunmy enemyrecharges my nightmaresi can no longersleep to dreambut i sleep to screamthe sunmy enemyrecharges the urgesi fight to control themand all there nasty thoughtsof death and harmthe sunmy enemyrecharges my death wishsuicidal ideationsplaque every waking momentthe tools of destruction are handythe sunmy enemyrecharges the painpain so intolerablethat I wish to perishto wither awaythe sunmy enemyis also my friend
restroom graffititruths have a tendency to appearin the company of filthwhere pressure forces poisonout, we are desperate to purifyand forget souls-they are mere blemishes,stains on an otherwiseimmaculate mind-but every now and againwe stoop to feel the weightof our subconscious screams take a moment to relieve pressureand flush our shit down the pipes.
Right Here Right NowThe river is deepand after the fifth vodkathe everlasting sleepcalls louder than ever - -Just one reason to stay!
the gravedigger's whistlesI still hear you inmy bones.Scraping andscratching a songagainst my veins,keep digging into the blooduntil it covers your face—pierce thoroughly thanfingertips and nailsso I won't hear anymoreof your graveyardromances.
misnomeri.shrill curseof glamoured locksand lax approachlove saddles upto dry barsand backs strokedwith bent talonsand asterisk hopesnever content to make oldthe new ropesthe knotsaren't worth the fraythe tying coaxesii.limp spinein detox angleand crass poselove crawls outthe last holeslept inand backstrokesin rapid floatno new mentions makeold bones distrust mostthe marrow's chatterfloods blank emotionsiii.chalk linenears lost formand passeslove eaten upby lying cars'backseatsand vast fauxleather limbtollsnever anew, these dusksdefile and bustthey are notsynchronous signsthey're omens
VeilfacedVeilfaced25-1-15Let’s follow spectrelight and veilfacedIn the wake of sosmallbox.Let’s dress antighostAnd go veilfacedTowards sosmallboxFor oneLastLookOne man carries sosmallbox pastPrayerseats and down the sadaisleTowards the darkdoor.Out in brightlight and moodskiesOne sosmallboxPlaced perfectly inOnesmallholeWhere onesmallboyWillRestForever
-i.we are young andwe are the wild youth, with ourlarger dreams, our symphonies and chords(louder and louder)with our dark-dusted alabaster skin,brushed with galaxies: touched withlight, we arethe ones who bleed ink and write until we can no morecreating worlds from our fingertips,unfolding lives and stories and theimperious shadows from our dreams. we turnand we sleepand we dream.ii.chasing visions through our headsrunning after the wind of dreams and falling afterour reckless and wild thoughtsacross windblown moors and sun dappled forestcarnation- red rose faces, pureturn their heads toward the golden sun,nodding in the wind,revealing secrets we've only begun to figure out ourselves.iii.dark navy skies, stormed tosses and churningthe tempests of doubt rage our mindsand lightning flickers across our skin:we break fragile butterfly wings andshake off the dust, it is nothing; it israin- pouring down, buckets of silver cascades, inthe land where we spi
tired...its no usethis may bemy swan songthe last hurraheverything isnow headedin one directiona solutionall oflifes problemsare weighingme downno one toturn toand nowhereto gothe solutionseems simplejust put an endto all the pain