Tag Archives: hate

split-second thoughts in a night that never seems to end

the room seems to get colder. is it just me or am i dying?

fingers locked on empty biro, waiting for something bad to happen

“what are you so scared of?” the bones in my body scream

like i wasn’t simply bleeding, like it wasn’t just a dream

well, i’m scared that i’m useless and i’m fragile and i’m weak

and i can’t ever justify myself for everything that i feel

i’m scared that i don’t know what my brain is telling me

that i need some medication just to feel a little more sorry

and i don’t want to submerge and i don’t want to stay up

they tell me to cut it out but instead all i hear is cut

and i’ve had enough of scars and i’ve had enough of crying

but the windows are all dark and i’m still alone not trying

to change what i can conceal at the tip of my tongue

and the words that i’m struggling, still struggling to understand

and i create these bold distractions and pretend for a while

that hell isn’t a few steps over, ready to greet me with a smile

but when the truth comes crashing down, it’s all i can do not to crack

not to break myself overthinking and bend until it hurts my back

because there comes a point where enough is not enough

and the walls start closing in and the ceiling starts to laugh

so i step outside and wish for rain, but just like everything else

i ever wished for and wanted, it doesn’t come true to end this hell

and so i gaze at the stars to comfort me and simply calm me

and so i gaze at the stars to keep my mind off suicide

and remind me of the times when i didn’t have to wonder

why i look at the distant lights in those times when i remember

that the dark is nothing to be scared of except when i’m inside

waiting for the final answer that turns out to be a lie

as my coffee’s getting cold and my skin is getting tighter

i’m suffocating with each breath and each burn on the cigarette lighter

my twitches getting frantic and my pulse is a heart attack

beating to rhythms of “when will someone come to take me back?”

no, i can’t sing to save my life; i can’t even save my life

‘cause i’ve spent it all on daily lessons about wasting out the fight

and i’m still standing outside losing, when the sun overtakes the horizon

with the only force left in the world and the energy to go on

but i’ll wait for the end, even if that takes more than a million years

until i’ve turned into a monument and crumbled but the ending isn’t near

because i’ve contemplated and i’ve meditated and i’ve prayed to every god

but my eyes are a little blurrier and my palms impaled on metal rods

striking lightning, never raining, an automatic impulse sleeping in my bed

everything sounds a little too schizophrenic when they’re all talking in my head

so when i finally find the strength to step back into that empty room so cold

i found that the temperature was the same deadly dull, and i still do as i’m told

and i’m still tired of everything even if everything’s just a fictional retelling

in my head, in my sleep, as i dream, as i wake, as i live…is it just me or am i dying?

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Oh, Ain’t That Clever? (The Hundred Dollar Profanity)

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s the ugliest of them all?
Severed, crawling like spiders
Injecting poison, now kill the bile spewing
The walking selfish living dead
I turn to rust and you play
In all the filth that you’ve created…

~*~

Sweet milk will still taste spoiled

If the mouth is too putrid and rotten

And barbaric words just don’t define

Someone’s being a “good” person

.

Underhanded plagues dyed the rain

With condescension and redder stains

With a wish that the cleave cuts deep

And that leather flesh will never heal

.

As judging eyes feel the need to gloat

Like skies on fire, the ashy vanity floats

Prison’s good but the abuse feels numb

All hands on them until they succumb

.

It’s fine to feel fine, the need to feel needy

And pride has never been so carelessly greedy

But freedom will still taste like putrid decay

When the body’s too bitter to feel the right way.

~*~

And when your dreams have come to end
How will you buy your happiness?
And when your self is all you have left
With what will you fill your emptiness?
You are the cause of man’s dissolving evolution
Is my heart completely useless?

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midnight run

i don’t deserve

your bullshit

and the pants you

couldn’t keep on

so next time

do us all a favour

and fucking walk

your shame back home.

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Ruby Woo

Sit around waiting for the spark to fade
You can add another face to your pity parade
I can’t believe it, I’ve never felt so cheated
Knock me down, it was all pretend
You set me back up just to do it again…

~*~

I hope that you’re proud

Making fun of the boys on the street

That bruised their knees

And couldn’t get back up again after

While you swallow yourself

Whole, lipstick girl with a lipstick heart

Defending her own jealous

“I’ll be happy forever and ever and ever”

.

I hope that you’re proud

For making fun of the people that couldn’t

Stitch their lungs as well

As you probably thought you fucking did

While no air leaves your

Open lips, lipstick girl with a lipstick brain

Pretending that her beauty

Is nothing more than an ugly kind of pain.

~*~

What am I supposed to do, uh oh
When she’s so damn cold, like twenty below?
That girl, that girl, she’s such a bitch
I tell myself I can handle it…

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Delilah and the Philistines

She breaks all your fingers and she calls it love

She’s got the eyes of a demon with the hands of a god

A delicate masquerade, dress lined of backbones

Sentencing the innocent to hang by her good intentions

.

She sleeps in a bed of casualties, a murder house designed

To lure in the chains and incarcerate her psychosomatic desires

Picturesque saint with a stolen halo falling off asphodel hair

Lips of asbestos and reflections of disaster on her morning wear

.

“It’s all for your good,” a sultry lie, “have faith in no one but me.”

Keep the strings attached on your neck, deflecting her own failed sun

“You’re never going to be satisfied, why do you even try, sweetie?”

The automatic letter for the clockwork machinery she calls her lungs

.

She breaks you down and breaks you apart and she calls it love

She’s a philosopher without the sagacity, she’s a surgeon without the blood

A desperate manipulation, exposed body lined with cheating scars

Sentencing the world to hang by her bad intentions just because she lost the war.

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the house of sinners

underhanded whispers

rotting foundations to the very core

flesh devoured by the ego

and cold blood sold to murder slaves—

black eye gouged for black eye

in this parasitic wasteland;

of a home built on crossbones

and mangled hearsay

swallowing teeth and anger

boiling harsh on explosive veins

devouring the starving bruised hearts

until all that’s left is arcane vitriol.

so tear my body apart to pathetic shreds,

expose the lies in my backbone

and make me believe fervently in

your hypocritical preambles,

distorted tales of abuse,

vile corrupted, asinine whining,

and the conjured-up apparitions at the

tip of your foul leather tongue…

i’ll pass it on to another fool;

taking them as you have taken me for.

because oh, i just adore

your stories of foolhardy orphans

and the secret adoptions that

you slipped in our coffee like poison

and now you have the nerve to grit

the dirty money between

your running mouth and say that

we don’t fucking deserve any of your trust

as you shamelessly go crawling back to your mistress

and weep behind red war paint.

a personal sadistic leverage,

that pathetic carnage of a temper of yours.

watch yourself before you accuse us

and don’t speak with the smoking gun

permanently lodged between your

pointing fingers like a quickly-burning cigarette,

because you’re gonna set yourself on fire.

and we’ll stand back and watch

the hostile flames convict you of arson—

among all of the other crimes

you’ve shamelessly committed against us,

because it’s the most merciful thing

we could ever do to you.

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confidential

i can’t have

anything

for myself

they seem to

know me better

at their call

i can’t have

anything

for myself

guess it’s better

not to know

me at all.

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Nervous Wreck

You’ve got a lot of nerve

At the tip of your tongue

When you were the one

Who made me feel sorry

I was still even breathing,

The one who made all my

Dreams feel secondhand

And just a cheap thrill drug,

The one who made it seem

Like underground reposing

Was the only option for you.

.

You’ve got a lot of nerve

On your mouth, and none

On the organ past your ribs—

But that’s alright, because I

Lost mine when you twisted

It into a noose and made my

Cold throat feel numbed-out.

That’s alright if you want to

Murder trust and then act like

You’re the fucking victim here

Just don’t drag me down again—

You could do that for yourself.

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Belial

I will defend that we are the vanquished
And you will not make our decisions
I won’t pretend that I’m not a victim
Of a world that will not listen
They will fall, nothing that I can’t overcome…

~*~

Rise from your grave

And save yourself

The angels won’t miss

A blurry little detail

.

Devour their promise

Crushed fingers lift

From another prayer

That you sent back to hell

.

They will all thank you

Someday, you think boastfully—

But for now we’re content

Cursing you back to your death.

~*~

Conquer the battles one by one
Crushing the head of what’s become
I’m screaming at the top of my lungs…

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bricked-up

this house

is a horde of

gnashing

pack rats all

fucking eating

me alive

and i wish

that they would

choke on my

flesh after i

lace it with

cyanide.

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