Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
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 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.
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
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
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.
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,
I am chasing the darkness
As the silence screams.
In search of precious pain,
My beaten heart thirsts to gain
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.