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
PerfectionYour ego wants.It is sometimes disguisedas your heartor your mind.butYOU don't want.you simply A R EYour worldly desires tell youthat you could bericherprettierhappierwhen everything you needyou already have.
if only for the night.she did notwant love, she wantedthorns twisted in hersteel fingersdigging into thesharp metal. sheneeded to b r e a kpeople. and she hadthe devil in hereyes and death onher skin:a walkingdisaster. shetasted likedanger incarnated;i knew by theway she wrapped herhands around mywrists she coulddestroy me. sn / ap mybones at will butshe never did andthe blue of her eyesdrownedme inchangingtides ofliquid fire. we spent one nightstaring at theceiling tracingconstellationson paper-skin andpretending to beartists of the universejust to feelalive.(before she left welay side by side at dawn withour chests splintered.)
Dirty Brother KillerMy bro...He believed thatYou were good...But I know the truth...You enjoy seeing us die,Covered in the color crimson,While laughing at us,Screaming in pain,And agony...Frisk...All of us cared,Protected,And even loved you.But after Papyrus-...I know...In this very moment...Your going to hell...And there's nothing...That will stop me from doing it...DIRTY BROTHER KILLER!
n.i.in the mornings i wakelike faded candlelight -soft and unsure, blown by the windfrom the open window becausethe heat resides within the bedframe and themonochrome moments.in the mornings i pray for lights-outand an empty sink to sharemy dreams with beforemorning becomes dayand day becomes lonely in the flashof the sunlight seeping'round the blackout curtains.some days i want to sleep foreverand only wake wheneveryone is comatose withintheir dreams; i want to be the ghostthat causes chills in the nightso i can say i made othersfeel something(because i feel so much i've gonehalf-numb).some days i wish i couldspeak ten languages -maybe then i could stop the ststutter in my breastand the hitching in my heartat the thought ofeverything --maybe learning ten tongueswould let me learn to whisper in the nightabout how my dreams haunt meand i, them - i ammy own bogeymanand i think i've missed a breathor three trying to figure out whatit means.when nigh
Depression Isn't RealDepression isn’t true, my dearDepression isn’t real.It’s just a silly tragedyYou’ve forced yourself to feel.Anxiety is fake, my friendYou wonder why it’s there.But others have it worse than you!Stop forming false despair.Cutting is dramatic, love,It’s ugly, and it’s dumb.Why not just get over it?Is the attention fun?Suicide is stupid, dear,And selfish, if I may.Get over yourself, darling,Can you hear these things I say?Why aren’t you replying, love?Oh, where could you have gone?I never meant to hurt you, love,Did I say something wrong?Why aren’t you replying, dear?Depression isn’t true!…Oh, but yes it was, “my dear”...Just maybe not for you.
A world of porcelain peopleWe live ina world fullof prettyfaçades; everyoneis a livingmasqueradein thisday and age:pick up yoursmiling faceat daybreak anddrape it over theviolet stainsbeneath youreyelids;walk aroundaimlessly -we are allsleepwalkers,eyes open butclosed.we are all pretty porcelain peopleliving in a pretty porcelain worldand our masksare startingto crack.(and reveal the ugly truth)
HetaliaxDepressed!Reader:Self-Inflicted AchromaticHetalia x Scary! Depressed! Reader: Self-Inflicted AchromaticI want to be a person just like you, don't you see?I want to be a person who is still being "me"A tired sigh escaped your lips. You were just so damn tired. The other countries said that you, (f/n) or (c/n), was scarier than Russia himself. But of course, you have lived 2500 years with wars and bloodshed always trailing after you. You just really want to be happy. But all those wars and blood imprinted on your mind, you really just released off a dark (a/c) aura and a stoic atmosphere.It really would be nice but I'm paying a price'Cause I'd really, not be me and that would not sufficeYou asked yourself, "I know my face doesn't show my pain. But isn't it obvious in my eyes? I'm lonely and hurt" You rubbed your numb (s/c) wrist, yesterday's cuts still had a colorless ache to it. You picked your silver knife, twirling it around watching the others argue. The said knife is the one you also use to cut yourself.A dream which
stardust. (you're beautiful)he'sout of orbit -interstellar spacedust in hisveins rise andfall witheach word thatdrips and poolsbeneath hishoneyed tongue;silenceis betweenhis knuckle-bones,sharp anddefined like theribcage of ababy bird, hismazarine eyeswere not made forthis earth butfor the stars.andsome days hefades in andout of reality likehe never reallywanted to be thereat all.on those daysi just thinkmy god, you really don'trealise how amazing you are.
LightLight pooled in the floes of her fleshthe warm tone of polluted amberit ran down the window,the stream broken in places by silhouettesand other such distractionsit spilled, soundlessand flooded silken sheetssetting adrift the skin and breath and whispers of herMachiavellian schemesto steal away into the polluted darkher sighs overflowed, sonorouspouring into the amber and blackthe constellations dotted along herdisrupted in places by the shadows of treesand other such poetry
fallingfallingfallingfallingdeeperanddeepereverythinggoes blackcold tendrilsof fog creeparound methe darkoblivionconsumes mei let goand falla silent cryescapes my lipsi reach outmy handand hopeyou willcatch mebefore i'mlost