Lucid Dreaming

She asks him, “have you ever thought about the world?
Like how we’re all connected as one,
Or why you keep thinking about that girl
When you know nothing can be done?”
It can be the most beautiful pain and strife,
If you have ever been in love,
You know that it can completely change a life
Whether that’s good, bad, or all of the above.
Now it’s almost as if you can feel his energy
With every bright star lighting the dark sky
And you’d risk the fall undoubtedly
Just to learn what it’s like to fly.
But as you were taking off in the night
You remembered what it meant to feel,
With every flashback flooding you out of spite
You wake up to find that this dream was never real…
t.h.
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Look What You’ve Done

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.

It’s Complicated 

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. 

Unconscious Thoughts. 

Trying. Not succeeding…My happiness is fleeting.

Upon the absent one,

Another destroyed.

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.

Flashback:

Consumed in happiness.

Flashback:

Defiled, broken, violated.

Flashback:

Driven to madness.

Flashback:

No longer engulfed in this vessel.

Not trapped by your being.

Free. Content. Nonexistent…

The Beauty Of…

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…

Save Yourself

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.

 

It’s not me, it’s you.

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 only 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.