Tag Archives: anxiety

Crown the End

Self-destruct personality
Won’t discuss my responsibility
I am always walking on the final verge
I’m killing myself but I am not a murderer…

~*~

I’ve been okay

For far too long

It’s time for time

To carry along

And drag me down

In bitter ashes

That strangle me

The more pain passes

Because I’m never

Meant for feeling fine

All I can do is grit my teeth

And keep on lying

To convince myself

That murder’s just a word

That dreams are archaic

And life is just a joke

Can’t I have that?

The ability to laugh

Without the need of blades

To keep me on the track

To see you not in jealousy

But rather in charm

To promise my skin and bone

That I will do no harm

For the numb to suppress

Every inch of regret

I’m starving for hunger

But never at my very best

I forgive the wounds

But never forget to bleed

I chase away those I want

Lacerate what I need

Is there a way out

For the revolution to die

And I can truly say

That I’m oh-kay-ay-why

For I think I’m a peasant

Content in warm walls

But I’m just a king in his tower

Waiting for the fall.

~*~

Never gonna be the only thing that matters in my life
When everything around me has failed
Who knows what the future brings but
Eventually the truth will prevail
It’s moments like these when you really gotta think
About the broken dreams that you sell
Tick tock on your head it goes where it stops
Who knows, like a carousel…

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metal & skin (xxxiv.)

i just

keep on

hesitating

and it’s

so fucking

frustrating.

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metal & skin (xxxi.)

i’m thinking

about these

things again

just when i

thought that i

stopped giving in.

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Weightless

Make believe that I impress
That every word by design turns a head
I wanna feel reckless
I wanna live it up, just because
I wanna feel weightless
Cause that would be enough…

~*~

Right now, I think I’m alright. My orbit is spinning steadily, caught in constant motion against the gravity of greater stars, keeping me from flying away and colliding with other astral bodies. The stars I rely upon are simply breathtaking. I deign to taste their enthralling radiance, but I’m aware of the impossibility of such a foolish notion, so I simply content myself to revolving around it lightyears away, thanking it silently for keeping me in line as I admire it from afar. But sometimes, for no discernible reason, the gravity weakens, and for a moment I break and drift away, attempting to pull back to my tether, terrified that I may never be able to bring myself back to that gravity, to the only thing that’s keeping my from crashing and vanished into oblivion within a black hole, forever lost in the infinite void. Hydrogen flares in my atmosphere and almost burns me up, as I strain and strain and strain back to that star, to that planet, to my solitary source of hope and light that always falls out of reach, to no avail. Then, to my great relief, the gravity slowly returns, returns to take me back in its reassuring grasp, returns to make me feel safe, and I can breathe easy again, comforted in its halcyon force. But as I continue to spin around the star, I wonder when the day will come when I finally drift too far away, too far for the gravity to reach, too far for the star to save me, too far gone. Within me, an earthquake deepens the rift, spreading veins of crevices and cracks, making prominent, irreparable faults, my molten core’s coriolis barely holding me in. And I wonder, I do wonder, which one will win the unwinnable race, which event horizon will occur first to end me. Will I fall away or break apart?

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Damage Control

Doors slam, harsh words
We blame each other
Three days, shut out
I can’t take this breakdown…

~*~

The riot in my head

Crying, crying.

Waiting. One moment

Its tongue is jaded serpentine,

The next I’m wrapped

Within its crushing embrace

Struggling, struggling,

Weak. My tired feet are

Dancing on nail beds

To desire my rightful place,

Daring. How dare me—

How dare he to profane

She to recollect cicatrices

With the tip of an accusing finger

To me. Heartless ribcage, will

You leave ligatures all over my

Silenced lips once again?

Of course, that is what you

Do…that is what you will…

Twain capricorn souls and volunteering

Severed hands…is the fragrance of

The future solely mine; no, yours—

To dominate selfishly?

No. No? No!

Need I even repent in my

Inquiries, regretting it all too late?

Struggling, struggling. Weak

As of late. Acrid flesh peels off

To reveal viscid fruit within a

Decaying flower, sweet like the lying

Promises of the riot in my head,

Crying, crying. Waiting.

~*~

And it’s all, and it’s all
And it’s all in the back of my mind
All I want, all I want
All I want is to turn back time
Dare me darlin’, I don’t want to let go
And what we need is a little damage control…

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Static Sessions

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive…

~*~

It’s rather strange and desensitisingly nerve-wracking, standing up there with shivering knees, under the judgment of glaring spotlights and hanging magenta lamps, and past the scrutinising pupils of a million watching stars. I do not feel like my own concrete entity, merely a disheveled apparition trapped in a foreign body. The amp screeches—jeeringly, it seems. I momentarily blanch. What the hell am I doing?

Perspiring profusely, trembling hands holding the gibberish lyrics to an unfamiliar forgotten song and an impatient crackling microphone, the beginning intro of the acoustic guitar sounds like a banshee’s scream that’s prompting my knotted larynx to begin making even an inkling of a noise. Quivering, quivering, quivering; dreadful hesitation and a near-death anxiety that wrings the delirious butterflies out of my stomach in an icy-cold freeze. An infinitesimal moment of silence. A skip of a heartbeat. A suffocating breath held until it coagulates. A spill of acherontic reluctance spilled down catatonic spines before one jolts and realises in shock that, surprise surprise, my parched mouth is actually producing sound!

Thus the song proceeds, with or without me. It’s up to me to chase after it’s vivacious footsteps. My voice is no longer my own, simply a phantom illusion; I barely feel it rising up and down, strumming the musical bars to the best of its abilities. Everything tastes like stereo static; clapping and cheering amid guitar and tambourine amid the anxious symphonies I relayed. The quaint scenario tangibly intensifies into a steady culmination, vertical horizons alighting into spontaneous combustion. Steadfast certainty underhandedly replaces the oscillating nervousness within me, pastel assurance slowly seeping in my ticking aegan-washed bones and strengthening every fibre of my abandoned sensibilities.

I find myself closing my eyes and loosening my grip, my driftwood soul getting pulled in the undertows of the euphoric moment. I can barely hear my own voice anymore, and I do not hear the crowd at all. Soprano, baritone, octaves, trebles, notes and rhythms and senselessness and song, they’re all that envelops me right now, my solitary company in this madness of a world. Raging fire burns in my emotions, thawing the glaciated blood in my veins, warming up the frostbitten angels barely holding my terse heartstrings together, bringing oxygen back to my perforating pulmonary flow; and nothing else matters anymore, only me and the music, the music and I.

The interlude swells into a deafening crescendo, and my frizzling neurons go off like fourth of July fireworks, showering the sky with brilliant sparks. It’s infinity on repeat, infinity in my teeth, infinity rushing low, infinity on an all-time high. This feels fucking amazing. What was there to be afraid of? Why had I been terrified all this time of such a ludicrous notion? Perhaps if I had steeled myself sooner, my brillo-pad songs would be less abrasive, and the ticking clock would’ve been on my side. But no matter, for I shall not dwell on the resentment of the past that keeps me embrangled within incarcerating doubt and merciless agony. Rather, I will focus on the now. This is me, doing what I never dared to do, doing what I’ve always wanted to do. I’m doing this for them, my beautiful divine motivations, though more importantly, I’m doing this for me, and for me alone.

The set comes to a slowing halt, the prospect tinging me with hints of sorrowful melancholy, and the audience bursts into polite applause, but the enraptured sensations linger still; and as I amble off the stage, I still find a soft lone melody humming whimsically at the back of my mellowing incandescent mind. It’s over, I sigh out to my palpitating lungs, to my shaky footing, to my disbelieving mind, attempting to calm my frantic pulse back into a metronome lullaby. But it will never be quite over, wouldn’t it? I ponder with a secret smile. I finally found my voice. I only hope I don’t lose it again. And I can only hope so hard it hurts that I don’t keep it to myself anymore.

~*~

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am…

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Say

Hey, how are you, by the way?

Okay, no more lies this time.

Say you’re not okay.

Say that nothing is fine.

Say everything’s going wrong.

Say your depression is returning.

Say you’re falling apart.

Say you messed up yet again.

Say all the problems you need to relay.

Say people are screwing you over.

Say you keep relapsing again and again.

Say you’re sorry for being a complete mess.

Say you don’t care if you’re being desperate.

Say that life doesn’t want you anymore.

Say you’re fucking giving up.

Say that you actually want to kill yourself again.

Say that this attempt is for good this time.

Say please, please, please you need help.

S a y  i t . . .

Say something…anything…just goddamn say something…

Say anything but—

Yeah, I’m good. I’m great. Never been better.

Fuck.

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averted ambition

i’m so tired

from chasing

after empty air

and looking

for something

that isn’t there

i want badly

to believe that

it’s more than

it ever seems

but am i just

fooling myself

is it just a futile

otiose dream?

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A Trainwreck of Thoughts

My heart is pounding fast, I’m out of gas, it never lasts

Serotonin, oxytocin, we’re built for sins and late for mass

Chemical, mechanical faces, daily races underwater

Looking for god in cabarets and never searching for answers

Am I your jester? Will I entertain her? Is the sense in making sense

For a semblance of humanity, insanity, neuropathy

Endowed in chronic migraines and under castigated lies?

Uncertainties play like a chess piece, checkmate, check please

Asking the waiter for the receipt, but he never comes

It’s sympathetic…pathetic, isn’t it?

The empathy that curls and coils and churns in my esophagus

Screaming until my lungs are bruised, traumatic pain, dramatic recluse

In the throes of a black rose, petals falling in a final calling

For the tears in tantrum storming, where are we now?

Somehow…it never changes, the change rattling ranges in our pockets

Never mean a thing, but there’s a hole in your pants

And your nickels are clattering in your mind; never mind

The respect, don’t expect, crestfallen and swollen eyes, do it thrice

Without fail, without avail, without much ado about the gale

They say love was just a tale written in thorns and photographs,

Polaroids and tongues so crass, washing away the blood on our hands

Burying the body but never saying sorry, you’ll never bury the past!

Here I stand. My heart is pounding fast, I’m out of spare tires and gas

Waiting for the moment to last, waiting for the end to finish the past

Will this sempiternity ever end? Will the medication finally bend?

Will this recluse find the chaos amid the calm, will I take on such a task?

My heart slows down, and I’m waiting silently yet patiently for you to ask,

But you never show your cards, and again…I relapse.

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dial tone dream

i found my true calling

for the longest time

i’ve already known

i found my true calling

but just it won’t pick up

the goddamn phone.

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