Her mind was something like a work of art;
A simple yet vivid portrayal of true beauty
With the innocent burden of a vulnerable heart
And the edge of a razor blade dripping profusely.
Awake in the night, still contemplating life
Her eye lids heavy as she lays there numb,
While somehow managing to grab the knife
She asks herself “what have I done?”
But now that the bright lights are starting to fade
And this game called life took it’s inevitable toll,
Shaking as she’s clinging to that sharp blade
Telling herself there’s nothing left here besides an empty soul.
She plays with razors and traces her scars. She counts her flaws like she counts her stars.
You would think you know her but you don’t know that everyday her thoughts get darker… Her heart is slowly sinking, and her mind — tired of thinking. She’d rather be anywhere but in this world because to everyone else she’s just another angry girl; she was never understood. They never ask, they always assume she isn’t in the mood. No one sees her struggles at night, nobody holds her to make sure everything’s all right… She was alone like the moon and she said one day, “it’ll all be over soon..”
So hopefully, when this nightmare is finally over, it’ll be nothing more than a sigh of relief.
Trying. Not succeeding…My happiness is fleeting.
Upon the absent one,
Break through the envious man,
He who chooses life over love.
The moments between dark and light,
The final take-over;
One last glimpse
Then forever gone.
Consumed in happiness.
Defiled, broken, violated.
Driven to madness.
No longer engulfed in this vessel.
Not trapped by your being.
Free. Content. Nonexistent…
Can you feel it? The dead weight of your body from those sleeping pills, the dark faintness from all the alcohol, the calming throb of your pulse as blood is slowly pumped out of your wrists? Can you feel that inexhaustible fading in and out of consciousness? Oh how I hope you feel every minuscule detail…from the overwhelming red pouring out to the sigh of relief when it all ends..
Because that’s it.
That’s exactly what we’ve been patiently waiting for. The quiet comfort silencing your thoughts slowly yet surely. But don’t you worry, it’s coming.
The quiet comfort, otherwise known as the beauty of dying…
There’s a place you tend to hide inside
And you tell yourself you don’t want to go
Because it tortures your soul every time
Always trying to pretend so it doesn’t show.
Yes, it happened. It changed you completely,
Although you never noticed… You were too low to care.
But they won’t feel sorry, you won’t get pity
This world is fucked, no such thing as fair.
You were oblivious to it all, not knowing the start
Killing yourself daily without even a clue
Burning your mind and frying your heart
Then constantly wondering why you can’t save you.
You just have to get up and smile for your sake
To make sure you never see that place again
Because loving who you are can make or break
That life you thought you wanted to end.
You might lust for me
but I yearn for him;
you just want to see me
but I want to learn him;
you only crave me physically
yet I crave him mentally.
You’ll never feel my soul
though you really want my “body”
but fuck what you “want” dear
this body isn’t for you to see.
And here goes that famous saying,
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
Well fuck that cliché saying, too
Because it’s not me…it’s you.