Monday, December 10, 2012

Hey Guys!

Sorry I've been gone for so long. It's been quite the road I'm on but I'm better now. :) I just posted quite a few poems I've been writing during my absence, I hope you like them! Let me know that you think.

Your Heart


I lived on piercing air, with each breath
forcing itself into my lungs
 I was a slave to life, being held captive
 in my own mind until I met you.
You released me from this mortal mesh,
you taught me how to swim in this sea of sadness.
 For this, I can promise you one thing,
despite how many times I’ve lost my sanity
and lost my ways
I promise
I will never lose
your heart.

Anxiety Attack


Panic
You feel
It
Pulsing
Through each and every vein
Creeping
Through each and every vessel
Every part
Of you is
Engulfed
In this seemingly never ending
Insanity

I Love You More


Like the ocean
That never
Ceases to
Kiss
The shore
With every
Wave
That crashes
I love you more

Untitled

At a loss for words
Unable to think
I look at you
And suddenly I can speak.

My Savior


Now I lay down with you to sleep,
I pray your silhouette is mine to keep,
thy angels watch us through the night,
And keep us safe till morning’s light.

Now I lay down with you to sleep,
I pray your heart is mine to keep,
If we should die before we wake,
Bless us Lord our souls to take.

Now I lay down with you to sleep,
I promise I am forever yours to keep,
Angels watch us through the night,
And wake us with the morning light.
__________________________________
I feel like I need to explain this one. I usually just leave my poetry up to interpretation but this time I want to explain it. I am not Christian, but to those of you who are, you probably know this is almost the exact same as the Children Lord’s Prayer. That was my point. I used the prayer and changed it to refer to our relationship. I am in love with someone, and he is my savior. The Lord is the savior for Christians, in a similar way to how Kyle is my savior. He has saved me from myself, just as God/Jesus saved Christians from their sins. This poem is for him, and I love him more than anything. 

Repair


Once lost in despair
Thinking I was beyond repair,
I found you.

Red Rose


This red rose may have its thorns
But I reach to pick it anyways
For I know that in the end
It will be more than worth it. 

Sunday, August 5, 2012

I Don't Care if I Die


Hello darkness, my old friend.
It’s been a while, but I’ve come back to see you again.
I wanted to tell you: I don’t care whether I live or I die,
But I don’t want to be the direct fault of my own demise.
Can you help me with this, my long lost friend?
Just please bring this darkness to an irrefutable end.

I know a Girl


I know a girl,
with pain in her eyes
and sorrow in her soul
and regret in every fiber of her being.

I know a girl,
a very lovely girl
who hides much beneath
and no one ever notices.

I know a girl
with a shattered smile
with melancholy laughter on her lips
with scars on her soft, impressionable wrists
with doubt plastered upon her flawless brow.

I know a girl
who is “okay”
who is “fine”
who is just tired of this life.

I know a girl who is broken.
I love this girl who is falling apart. 

I know a girl I want to fix.

Monday, May 7, 2012

The Paintbrush


She reaches for her paintbrush, it’s time again to paint.
She holds it close to her canvas, not using any restraint,
All the while keeping her expression quite quaint.

This painting shall be her finest, her most magnificent vignette.
She paints in crimson red, lustfully meticulous as if outlining her silhouette.
This final piece she will fail to ever regret. 

Almost now complete, she paints her last stroke.
She saves the best for last, as her finale can all but be revoke.
But now comes a twist you won’t believe, as if it were a gruesome joke.

She painted a gorgeous picture upon a canvas, you see?
But her brush was but a blade, her canvas but the wrist of she.
The crimson paint she used was but her liquid life she wished to free.

But now her lovely painting fades,
For her arm holds no more blood to keep it vivid in shades.
Forevermore, she continues to fade ‘til nothing else remains.

But now, you see, there is but one more twist.
For her mind was really the razor
And her heart was but her wrist.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Can I try?


Each slow, shallow breath I take
Sends me closer towards my fate.
My mind races with my heart, and fails to refrain
From creating a never ending cycle of lustful pain.


I clench this knife with an ambivalent grasp,
Letting it carve into my flesh as I let out a silent gasp.
Desperate for comfort, the silence feigns screams
As the blade reassures me this in not a dream.


I give into each corrupt desire,
I give into my every failure.


Am I dead or alive?
Am I reality deprived?
Can I feel? Can I cry?
Can I simply try?

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Never Fall That Far Again


A whispering gust of verses encircle my ears as your lips somberly dance to the rhythm.  I watch as the darkness drips from your mouth, just as blood leaks from a closing wound. Your eyes wander hastily to catch a glimmer of sunlight, only to halt as it is kisses the lifeless concrete that lie beneath your feet.

Your mouth begins to dance again, “This ground I see,
This ground supports my flesh,
        my burdens,
      my faith.
It keeps me afloat in my sea of woe.
Thru it, I can never fall that far again.”

A Requiem

You bleed waning passion.
We watch it escape every crevasse,
Every pour,
Every crack in your flesh.

You grow hope in your garden of denial.
We watch them bloom into their demise,
As you have no water to sanctify them.

You sleep with cozening shadows.
We watch your every breathe;
With every inhale you let in your demons,
With every exhale you sink deeper in your quietus.

You smile with fear beneath your teeth.
We watch you force every grin,
As you lean to kiss your fear instead of me.

You shuffle off this mortal coil.
We watch you flee with a bullet,
As you give up the ghost and set your soul to eternal rest.

You lay on the lamenting floor.
We stare in dismay at your lifeless body,
I mutter your requiem,
As it shares a melody with the silence.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Inharmonious


We’re both musicians in this world of silence.
We’re both artists in this world of black.
We’re both humans in this world of beasts.

It would seem we match perfectly;
like a match to a fire, like a wave to an ocean,  like a ray to a sun, like a note to a harmony.

Well then, why can’t we harmonize?
We see notes as they fly by,
Yet why can’t we play them right?
Why can’t we play them right?
Why can’t we play them right?
Why?

We never play the same song.


Welcome


Welcome to my inconsistent personality.
Welcome to my chaotic compositions.
Welcome to my perverse sentiments.
Welcome to my literary haven.
Welcome to the tale of my demise.

Monday, April 2, 2012

In My Mind


In the mind of the normal:
A razor is meant to shave with.
A bottle of pills is meant to be stored up high.
A bridge is meant to be walked across.
A bathtub full of water is meant to be jumped into.
A full plate is meant to be eaten.
A passing train in meant to be waved at.
A rope is meant to hold a piƱata.

In the mind of the empty:
A razor is meant to numb the pain.
A bottle of pills is meant to be swallowed.
A bridge is meant to be jumped off of.
A bathtub full of water is meant to hold a breathless body.
A full plate is meant to be thrown away.
A passing train in meant to be walked in front of.
A rope is meant to become a noose.

In the mind of the artist:
A razor is meant to intrigue.
A bottle of pills is meant to numb the mind.
A bridge is meant to be over water.
A bathtub full of water is meant to be still.
A full plate is meant to be overwhelming.
A passing train in meant to be lit up.
A rope is meant to hold up my hope.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.
For a day without pain, without regret, without  fear.
For the day when I am no longer isolated within in my own mind.
For that day when my war has been won.

I sulk. I sit. I wait. 
I hope to one day greet this day, for my bleeding heart yearns for this reunion.
The day has still yet to show, and my strength is growing thin.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.
This hope I still hold looks an awful lot like fear. 
                                        When will this day come?
For it looks like that day to never come.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.
For I realize that day is not too far away. 

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Mori Art Ti

To die was an art,
So let me paint.

It's Funny, Isn't It?

It's funny isn't it
How effortlessly one can take a blade
Run it across their skin
Puncture the very thing that keeps them whole
Over and over again 
Until all pain is gone
  Until all the blood is drained
               Until they are numb
                             Until the next time.
It's funny how such a simple action can become
         a dangerous addition
                     A ravenous craving
    An unconscious compulsion;
                                                                                                                 An addiction not easily overcome.
It's funny how such a simple act on oneself can hurt so many others
Cause so much pain to their friends
                To their boyfriend or girlfriend
                                                                                To their family.
It's funny how all of the pain it releases is brought back
not long afterwards.
Funny isn't it.

But I ask,
Is all of this worth it?

They say no.

I say…
I'm sorry.

Oh, Precious Pain

Oh, precious pain,
How you force me down with your everlasting chain.
How I never cease to try to escape your grasp in vain.
How I find your allure ironically addictive;  ‘tis only you I hope to gain.
Oh, precious pain,
How you are surely my bane.
How you will forever be my biggest blood-red stain.
How you are the cause for my lesser hope, ‘tis now on the wane.
How you have surely driven me insane.
Oh, precious pain,
How I beseech you to rid me from my mortal duties, do not refrain.
Just promptly carry me to His anodyne domain.
Oh, precious pain.

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Oh dear

Oh dear, wipe those tears. You may think you’re broken, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be fixed. You will make it through this.                            

The words I never said


The words I never said
I regret them in my head
They haunt me as I lay in bed
Those words I never said
To you

Friday, March 30, 2012

What do you dream about at night?


What do you dream about at night when you’re all alone in your bed?
All alone at night.
Do you dream about dreaming,
Only reaching for success within the depths of your sheltered hallucinations?
The hallucinations never end.
Do you dream about death,
Only to be disillusioned when you awaken every morning?
Sleep serves merely as your temporary demise.
Do you dream about love lost,
Only to become disheartened when you can’t even find it in that black hole you call your mind.
Love will never find you.
Or do you just never dream at all?
Because that would simply be the worst of all.

What do you dream about at night?

Thursday, March 29, 2012

That Feeling...


That feeling of wanting despite not needing;
That feeling of endless, agonizing pain despite efforts to heal;
That feeling of pure emptiness despite being physically whole;
That feeling of loneliness despite being surrounded by others;
That feeling  of shame despite no one knowing what you’ve done to yourself;
That feeling of hopelessness despite knowing it will get better;
That feeling of weakness despite the eternal  determination;
That feeling of uncertainty despite knowing exactly what’s wrong;
That feeling that's illogically logical. 

Bleeding


Tears rain down, staining my shirt a crimson red.
Like a waterfall of agony, it drowns me.
I lay silently, suffering in my bed.
The tears won’t clot, I’m lost in my ruby sea.
Each burgundy tear slides down my pale frame,
Causing my skins subtle twitching.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Hope


I grasp it tight, never letting go
The rain may loosen my grip, but the sun will come soon enough
Here, hold on with me

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Fake It

Smile
smile and laugh
smile

Laugh
 smile
smile and laugh


Repeat

It Gets Brighter

Reaching out, arm extended
I open the up curtain.
The light temporarily blinds me as I turn away.

But I look back and see all that lay outside in the sun.

Unwanted Hope


Through the darkness I search for a flicker.
In the distance, I see a faint sliver of light.
I turn around.

Trapped In My Addiction


Hope has found me but I won’t let it in.
I’ve shut my windows and locked my doors.
I’ve trapped myself in my own mind, no escape.
And now I’m running out of air.
I hold my breath,
I like the darkness.

Empty


Dead inside, I try to breathe.
How can I go on living like this?
Nothing’s making sense,
there’s something wrong with me.

What Cure's The Pain


I conform to my norm,
With my diet of sadness and pain,
My blood and my blade.
I’ve become addicted to this,
My never ending cycle
of tears and shame.
They gave me pills for a cure;
I am incurable.

But within this misery,
I found a sliver of reality.
I want to end this agony.

I silently cry for a savior,
Yet I linger alone in my melancholy  torture.
Engulfed I thus become,
In this virulent game.
My new best friend,
Now my miniature scythe.

Where is the reaper now?
I’m done with these drugs.

Addicted To The Sadness


Addicted to the sadness,
I am chasing the darkness
As the silence screams.
In search of precious pain,
My beaten heart thirsts to gain
failure.

Lost in my own misery,
I have forgotten how senseless death, 
How precious life.
You fail to see my passion snapping,
As I smile at your command.

Dead inside already,
I am empty and unsteady.
You see what I show,
But no one shall really know
What thoughts I conceive,
Nor what feelings I possess.
For if you really knew,
You’d be in tears.