Tag Archives: depression

adi/s/pose

tightening flesh

willpower on a noose

chunks, spilling out

from folds of cloth

and utter self-shame

repulsiveness—

a circular shadow

fingers shoved down

screaming throats

holding on, and yet still

letting go—insides

curl in disgust

acid burning teeth

unable to fully digest

the ugliest truth

that’s all you will ever be

crushed bones and

muddled-up delusions

and bloated organs showing

all of your secrets;

no one will ever love

a colossal mess

not even yourself

especially not yourself—

swallowing cold hope

will only result in

a violent choke

but isn’t that what you

wanted all along?

skin turns blue, then red

aftertastes blending

in an open mouth…

what are you waiting for?

go on then—

eat your fucking heart out.

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miasmatic

i am an insatiable hurricane; quietly violent and reckless to the touch.

i want to throw up every last drop of blood and ink and poison from my shivering body, until the strange hollowness i constantly feel is fully justified. i want to grab at my chest, wrench my ribs gaping open, and carve out my constricting lungs into prettier passageways so that i could finally breathe right again. i want to drill a hole at the back of my broken head and let all the awful thoughts come flooding out, i’ll let it grow into a sizable puddle and use the vile colours to cover up an empty canvas with pretty shades of hysteria. i want to scream, and scream, and SCREAM until someone listens to me, until someone is disturbed enough to care—i just want to know that i’m not invisible. i want to freely love and be loved without the choking fear of losing myself completely, but no one should ever have to suffer that way.

and me. and me. selfish human being, desiring an impossible life. an impossible life of happiness. of normalcy. of simplicity. of even just being fine for longer than a second. i want to find a soft spot beneath the earth and bury myself alive for a few centuries, hiding forgotten and patiently waiting until everyone and everything i used to know has inevitably gone away with the passing of time, and maybe then…maybe then, there would be a chance for me. maybe then, i wouldn’t have to keep desperately wanting anything for once. because then, i’ll only have what i truly need.

is that too much to ask for?

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ativan

a mouthful of chalk,

mixed with lead and ashes

as the room spins a record

only my dazed eyes could hear

.

a mouthful of chalk,

mixed with your toxic words

my migraine plays me a film

of my self-destructive apathy.

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RE: 05.10.19

It’s a strange battle; how I’m willing to fight for my own defeat.

My eyes are intently locked on the borderline of control and neurosis, glaringly sharp and unforgiving as the keyblade’s edge. It’s been a while. Four months, in fact. I never really thought I’d find myself trapped in this situation again. But that was fool’s gold, plain and deluded.

This is reality. It will always twist into crude inevitability and carefully-worn destructive cycles, and before I even realise it, I’m skinning both of my knees again and lapsing back into the same hellbent path I was struggling to run away from in the first place.

It feels safe. Dementedly inviting. Oddly comfortable, somehow. The old footprints are well-shaped and all I have to do is trace them with my wandering steps without a second thought—never mind that it’s almost knee-deep now. Never mind that I’m still sinking down, and fast.

Open the paper with steady hands. Stare. Stare. Stare. The exhilarating tremble quietly works its way from my terrified nerves right into my anticipating fingers. “Cut it out!” My anxious mind writhes and convulses furiously as it continues to plead for dear life. C u t i t o u t !

I’ll do that. Will I? We’re not quite on the same page here, I know, but skinny metaphors are translucent, my dazed vision’s turning opaque, and I can and will refuse to see through whatever white lie, whatever false reassurance, whatever blanketed bullshit I choose to believe.

Tick tick tick. The impatient seconds wasted on the clock. My chipped nails rapping nervously on the surface of a wooden table. This pen spitting hollow words against the journal I’m attempting to distract myself with momentarily—but what the hell am I still waiting for?

There’s no use prolonging this. Even if I wait, even if I say “fuck it” and let the teeth dig in quickly, the pain will be all the same. And in another day or so, I’ll be doing this again, but further. More resolutely. More…permanent, hopefully. So might as well practice passing over to perfection, lest I fail at this pointless task again. And go over again. And go overboard again.

It’s a strange battle; to win and yet to lose, to start the fight by ending everything, to give my all for giving up.

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finish line

is it time

to let this

fall apart

i’ve gone

for months

now without

any spark

.

if my mind

has sunk

to the very

bottom, then

how can you

tell me to

simply hold on?

.

is it time

to let this

fall apart

i’ve played

my role, and

i’ve done all

my parts

.

if my mind

has sunk

so low, i

can’t reach

then how can

you tell me to

even breathe?

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some awful luck

This curse making
My heart soon burst
The thirst, I’ve never
Felt it hurt worse
We tried, god
We fucking tried…

~*~

bad luck

please come in

let’s spend

some time in

the lion’s den

spit some blood

in my glared eyes

pounce like

a predator and

have a slice

.

bad luck

have some fun

i’m falling

under, and i’m

on the run

gnash your teeth

grind my bones

i know there’s

no help coming

i’m all alone

.

bad luck

please come again

your company’s

simply a fine

guilty sin

keep me hanging

on the edge of

my seat—after all,

i can’t complain

i know i deserve it.

~*~

But inside, we’re dying
Just to feel that high
I’m dying just
To fuck my mind
Cause god, it makes me
Feel so right…

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Insides

Keep the taste of suicide

Away from your filthy tongue

And wash it down with blowflies

Dancing by a loaded gun

‘Cause no one will ever save you

Alone by the edge of your seat

So just peel the lies out of your skin

And don’t let your brain bleed.

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innocent

i just want to be innocent again; to have the cracks in my fingernails repaired and the holes in my teeth patched up and my frayed nerves replaced, i want to unlace the dreadful knots in my veins and scare all of the bad thoughts away and find new ways to feel again, ones that do not involve hurt and hate and heartbreak, but instead holds laughter and hope and faithful love—simple words for a simple soul. i just want to be innocent again

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Monstrous Things

I built the foundations of my flesh

On relapses and fake fiction

A nightmare dressed in scarlet letters

Drag me out in recanted desperation

.

I cut my teeth on reincarnation—

To live, to die, to leave again

.

Existing is as bitterly blistering as the arsenic

Threaded through my veins, replacing

Control, slowly decaying bones and plastic

.

I pretend that hope’s not mere optimistic ignorance

And swerve before the collision hits my ribs

And failure decides to forge placid smiles

Of jaded reassurances and arrogant bliss

Here’s the nerve to tell me how I should feel…

.

I shouldn’t, should I? It’s all the same

If so, then tell me I’m wrong; undaunted and

Abrasive—ignite me with purest prosopagnosia

.

As schizophrenic choirs no longer chant askance

Neither I, nor you, never this hell above

.

It’s all pointless, nothing but viscid dromomania

.

I built myself on silken stagnancy,

Desiring beyond the pale, euphonic amnesia

And torn down with macabre allegories—

Are you be ashamed to be one of the monstrous things?

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Fill The Void

Started with a little bit
Now I don’t know how to quit
Always feel inadequate
Same way that my daddy did
Mama told me not to try
And I should have taken her advice
And now I’m all twisted
When it’s all gone, I miss it…

~*~

I’ll delude myself with one more week

As if that would make any difference

Feel the rush of false accomplishment

Before the eleventh hour wears it off

.

Control drags furious scars down my limbs

Daring to tear past my cracked pretence

But I just want it to take me by the hand now

And lead me towards that pre-dug grave

.

For a minute of rest, I’ll shut myself

Close my lost eyes and simply throw it all away

The key, the lock, what I’ve worked for

That pointless persistence only fools dream of

.

When the spinning cycle makes me too dizzy

And my dragged footsteps are going nowhere

It’s much better off to be prepared for the worst

I apologise, it’s okay—I’ll be going home soon

.

Because this is always all the same, over and over

I’m tired of being tired, and I’m tired of being me

Distracting myself just so I could make it out alive

When I know there’s nothing left, so why should I be sorry?

~*~

I’ll fight just to do something
I’ll fight ’cause I got nothing
Else that gets me through the day
Till I find another way
I’ll fight just to do something
I’ll fight ’cause I got nothing
Even if I lose again, I can’t quit…

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