InsanityThe sky is purpleThe sea is redMy dog is a dragonMy brother a demonA creature perchesOn my shoulderAnd whispersEvil deedsHe tells me to dump the oilAnd light the matchCut the ropeAnd watch the chandelier dropBlood seeps from the wallsScreams echo in the darkThe moon calls to meIn a sweet lullabyOf insanity
feyThe wind whispers to mein hushed tonesThe trees rustleand tell me their talesThe sunlight fills mewith warmth and wonderThe shadows reach for mecraving lust and destructionThe sea sharesits sorrows with meThis is who i am, feyMy world, that of Faerie
Faeriethe windin my haircool waterlapping againstmy bare feetthe warmthof the suncaressing my skinthis is my worldthe world ofFaeriewill you come awaywith me?will you be myother half?balance my worldbe the calm againstthe stormthe moonlighti revel inthe fire thatkeeps the dark at baymy love,come with meto Faerie
Mine?I ask forForeverAnd You sayYou willAlwaysBe thereButThe distanceScares meThe timeUnravels meWhen we areTogether againWill you stillBe mine?
My WorldWhen I'm with youEverything fades awayYou make me feel aliveI want you all the timeWhen you're goneI feel emptyColdLostDeadBut, when I'm with youThe world comes aliveThe colors are brighterThe sounds clearerThe tastes sweeterYou are my strengthMy stability, my everythingYou are my world
melt downmy lifetornmy heartshatteredmy head isa mess ofconfusioni don't knowwhat to docan you tell mewhat to doim in themiddle ofa mentalbreak downoh yesim havinga melt down
RELIEFThe biteof thebladeThe stingof thepainThe flowof thebloodreliefsosweet
Hopedarkso darki runand irunwhere isthe lightthe wallsare closing inhopelessand alonein thedarka smilein thenighta warmthin thecoldyour handheld outto memyshininghope
ESCAPElostin amaze ofinsanityrunningthroughempty roomsand burningforestssearchingalwayssearchingfor anescape
he saved me, but he killed me._i. first light- i met you in a crimson forest. it was a rose garden summer, and out of a black mercedes you walked out, your five year old eyes greener thansunlit saplingsyou reached up to pluck a rose from its stem, and offered it to me."what's your name?"daddy told me that i couldn't tell strangers my real name.I looked at the rose in my hand."Rose."you smiled, you were a seastorm of now long-gone innocence.i didn't understand but I knew.ii. i forgot about you for 1562 days, 11 hours, and 22 minutes,you shoutedmy name, but i didn't recognize youuntil i saw your eyes.iii. my father fell and didn't stand back up again.i screamed, and you carried me home.iv. i didn't talk for a week. i stared at the gray of the sky. it was the color of my father's eyes.you sat next to me in the pouring rain,your war
bullets in a shot glassAgain the archers are aching,again their bones are breakinglike the cracks in the Colosseum.Death does not defendeager-eyedfighters; he does not fulfillgodly goals ofheaven and halos.I am inverted, introverted,a jester jeeringat kids who kisslike life is long enough to fall in love.my mouth is a machine,a new nightfallordering our soldiers outinto pits where they pray for peace.the quirks of ourridiculous readings rule us,sand us into sculpturesthin and tall, trembling.our universe is built on uncertaintyand vicious virtueswritten by long-dead warriors whoexpected to live forever, andI do not yield to yourwell-read zombies.
Ugly Scars“Why do you cut, dear?”“Doesn’t it hurt?”Of course it does –It hurts more than I’m worth“Why do you cut, dear?”“Aren’t you ashamed?”Of course I’m embarrassed,But I’m used to the blame.“Why do you cut, dear?”“Why don’t you stop?”Can you stop a dead bodyFrom starting to rot?Because, darling, you see,I’m not even here.I’m only a corpseWith no hope, and no fear.“Why do you cut dear?”Well, don’t you see?There’s a pain insideSo deep within meAnd it’s coming to the surfaceBut no one understandsSo I put that painInside my hands.And I lay it outFor all to seeOn wrists so redAnd forearms that bleed.“Why do you cut, dear?”“It’s ugly, you know.”Ha.“ugly” is exactlyWhat this is meantTo show.
Anxiety attackAs the attack begins,I feel myself slipping away again.And I question things that are better left unsaid.And contemplate if I am better off dead.My anxiety is killing me,I feel my hands shaking.And I am sobbing.And am I dying?I am just trying,To get a grip.But I feel my reality slip through my finger tips.Nothing is real,Except every bit of pain my mind forces me to feel.Every memory that I had shoved away.Is now racing around my brain.It's driving me insane.And my limbs turn to jello.Every time my head hits the pillow,Before I go to bed.I start to panic and I am wide awake instead.More thoughts are swarming around like a hurricane.Please,Make it stop!And just like that,The attack is gone.
Self-Harm Isn't a HandbagPick at the scabs of the ghosts of scarsOn the insides of my wrists,White hot pain memories shoot up my veinsAnd the tear vapour creates mistsIn the lenses of my glasses.My world narrows down to thoseWhite stitch marks that keep thePatchwork of my forearms and thighsTogether,Keeping the dark ugly hurtOn the insidesForever.How could I have done this to myself?Could I blame you?And him?And her too?No.I’m a big girl now,And the blame rests on my wrists,That flicked the bladeAnd sprayed the blood,And the mind that forbadeMe to ask for help.I’ve said it beforeAnd I’ll say it again;It isn’t beautifulTo put yourself through such pain.When your head is buzzingFrom the hit of the highOf a new cut on your thigh,Or your mind is lost in a mistOf ecstasy from a new sliceOn your wristAnd you’re dependent on itA junkie needing a hit,It isn’t pretty or cute or special.No amount of kissesWill undo the cutsOr absorb the scars.No
The Wrong Side Of MidNightOn The Doctor's TrainI Met The Princess Of The Dawn,But We WereOn The Wrong Side Of MidNight.
existyou say you love meso why don't youtalk to mehold my handkiss m eacknowledge myexistencethis doesn't seemlike lovei love youi craveyour presenceyou lips against minei want tobe with youalwaysyet it seemsyou dnt even know iexist