Tag Archives: attempt

Funambulist

My dear funambulist

Now traipse, don’t trip

The ropes are wornout

Before we could meet

My dear funambulist

Be careful with steps

The height is greater

Than the shaky rest

My dear funambulist

Your walks be wary

No shudder, stumble

Balance you’ll carry

My dear funambulist

From that other side

We knew we couldn’t

Why did we even try?

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Suicide is Imperative; Dying is Relative

Stop me before I go to waste
For every heart that’s born can easily be torn away
I can’t comply to this state of consciousness
That we call life, and though I stand here to perish
I will stand here ’till I die…

~*~

Suicide is such a selfish word, isn’t it?

An exquisite hum never to be whispered

And muttered under cautious hushed breaths

But don’t let your sweet little girl pull the trigger

And send her down along to her early death

It’s the last resort to someone who has nothing

Failure is relative, but then again so is dying

An easy way out, you don’t need to leave a note

Be an open ending with your last pages never wrote

Jealous hearts seek clarity in forms of twisted mentality

Bladed sobriety, I wish someone would find me

But no dares to ask, and no one dares to kindle and ignite

The bonfire that might burn down the entire midnight

The attempts I’ve hidden behind star-spangled band-aids

The promises thrown away like an extinguished hand grenade

Guilt, pain, contrition shaken up like a secret toxic potion

Three cheers and toast to us, and here’s to murderous emotions

For the lifelines we destroyed, the stars that will outlast

The existence that will never be, the sulphurous bite of the past

For giving up the ghost so hard the grim reaper gets chills

For the recovery that is bullshit misery, for all the numbing thrills

Don’t decode the snarled banter, dying’s really just entertaining

A childish amusement, they say it’s serious, but why am I laughing?

It’s so easy to throw yourself to the vultures instead of the sharks

There’s nothing left to be salvaged if you’re already torn apart

Suicide, it’s such a disgustingly beautiful word, isn’t it?

For the bruised minds that keep slipping under the lack of leverage

Three unlucky syllables can never sum up all the sussurous pleas

Never to do it, for our spines never to be avaricious nor weak

But sometimes, enough is just fucking enough, isn’t it?

Never mind the big picture of the future if the details are flawed

The decades I have left won’t compare to the halcyon thought

For the peaceful centuries of eternity that my corpse has left to rot

Life is difficult. I should just kill myselfshouldn’t I? Why shouldn’t I?

~*~

Stop me from making more mistakes
Fallen friends have learned their lessons
Fate their teachers taught them all too late
Don’t teach me too late, just hide me from my fate…

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wingless

the fall

was just another

excuse for me

to attempt to fly

and if that

doesn’t work, then

i won’t lose

anything when i die.

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Mixed Signals

inklings of suspicion

could leave

a splattered mess

all over the

clean cotton paper;

and a most

disastrous result

of two artless

individuals

vainly attempting

to decipher

some sense

out of a ruined

canvas.

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