Tag Archives: relapse

Baptism By Fire

Blink if you hear our signal
Our hands drip red with blood from clapping
When you hear the command
The sparrow ate our bread trails
Go east along this shadowed mountainside
If you wanna stay alive…

~*~

You stuck to the guns that grew behind your open back

I let you confuse me for a while, until you beat me black

But I still left all the pain between the spaces in my teeth

Picking barbed wire from my knuckles, I can’t even bleed

.

So now the party favour’s over, the running joke is getting old

I couldn’t even laugh at myself, you thought you had me so sold

But contempt is double-sided, their crude fence has collapsed

You’re nothing more than a brackish lie, a fast-forward relapse

.

But you stuck to the blunt razors you forged under your callused skin

When the devil beckoned you back, confident that you would finally win

But when I left my lacerations in the places you and the crowd could see

That was only for show and tell and the next one up in line is you, not me.

~*~

Well, you had pinched my arm to find light
And know that if this is real
I know how the emotion
Now I can’t sense when or if I get out
And I’m still wayside with myself…

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impulse, and devoid (t/w)

I’m coughing up my time
Each drag’s a drop of blood
A grain, a minute of my life
It’s all I’ve got just to stay down
Why the fuck am I still down?

~*~

slit slit slit slit slit slit

how many this time?

metal is far too small

not enough to hit bone

grab a pair of scissors

and cut away all of the

excess weight—maybe

would they like me now?

gaping at naked vultures

repulsed but fascinated

no, i don’t want to be this

i want to be just like them

.

slit slit slit slit slit slit

a little bit of fluid goes

a long way, maybe this

time i could count it out

everything counts, but all i

have is a bunch of ugly cells

with no ounce of self-control

fucking dragging me down

i’m exhausted, hungry, numb

huh, i really do wonder why

metal’s slowly getting dulled out

maybe this time it would work

~*~

I’m hoarding all that’s mine
Each time I let just one slip by
I’m wasting what is mine
Goodbye to you, goodbye to you
You’re taking up my time…

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Damaging The Hereafter

You’re just another momentary habit

Twisting lungs and curling veins

Giving way to indestructible hysteria

Pulling me in, writhing with grief

.

Your indifference entices my curiosity

Though my self-worth is quite expendable

Holding on to what we’ve barely got

When you were too afraid to hold my hand

.

Lethal enough to let you past the barricade

That separates my heart from my sternum

But the fault chews on my lips like kerosene

And I still taste you in the burning of sunrise

.

Mechanical angel, come and take me away

Our paradise is made of metal and crimson decay

I promise I’ll be fine, I’m only a past delusion

Conjured from the cordite against your perfume

.

But you won’t give me back the love I wasted now

And time crashes desperately against gritted teeth

Vehement tides exposing skins, dyed with misery

Clammy from the accidents, calling for emergency

.

Think of me in the afterwards, consumed with self-secrecy again

Your mysteries embedding a thin film of desire underneath my skin

Pulsating with fever dreams and acidic pain, a vicious garden growing

You let me relapse just to understand but the final thrill was missing.

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nocturnes, numbers, nyctophilia

It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness—and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark. ~Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand

~*~

i.) the jealous penmanship

clever words left tears forming in my brain

ones that i have to open up my healing bruises

just so i could let them out somewhere

somewhere my veins wouldn’t be affected severely

(it was late at night, and my stars called out from nowhere)

sensations poured out from every letter and departure,

as it entangled itself with my nerves and wore them down,

and wore them like a dirty dress, and wore them out to town

until they were worn-out; nothing but a few stray threads.

i burned half of my journals when i turned 16 and stopped trying

to imitate being an author, because writing for me isn’t an expectation–

it’s nothing but another puzzling lock without a skeleton key

and because the most delicate daydream wasn’t mine

because selfishness, to me, is not just another bland adjective

because my bones screamed with the weight of a black hole

because your reveries were enchanting. and mine were f a d e d

n o , i ‘ l l  n e v e r  b e  a s  g o o d  a s  y o u

~*~

ii.) softness, like his heart in the shape of a newborn galaxy

i faded into an ugly shade of something that’s neither monochrome nor coloured;

on the verge of collapsing onto the other side of the fence, threatening madly

but never quite having the contemplation to choose a losing side

as i fell down into the blue of a stranger’s wanderlust eyes.

someone else had taken most of that vibrant shade already, but i managed

to steal away just a sliver, a glimpse, an infinitesimal shiver

and it was the kind of lasting cold that froze summer hurricanes

and kept my breaths visibly foggy and crisply sharp with every inhale

(you never warned me. you don’t know me, but you knew me too well. and i never listen.)

i’ll always be an insignificant detail in the cyan tapestry you painted for yourself

and i’ve accepted that long ago when i said i loved you in my nightmares,

tossing and turning on the bed covered in plastic arrogance because

no other blanket felt warm and comfortable enough for my body to sleep on

until then, i could only sink deeper into the fathomless wish that this universe would end s o o n

i t  w a s  a  k i n d  o f  l o v e  t h a t  m a d e  s u i c i d e  s o u n d  l i k e  m u s i c

~*~

iii.) an abrupt goodbye/the guilty party often disappears first

i was mad at something. i didn’t know what it was, but it was foolish enough

for me to take it out onto the embracing autumn sky, on the taciturn smiles that

were supposed to hold me when tempestuous desolation grabbed at my twisted throat…

and on you. you never meant anything. you just wanted to talk, and so did i,

but my tongue was a spilling box of blades, and every time i opened my

wounded mouth to make you laugh, i always ended up cutting you by accident instead.

(friend, even if i said i’m sorry, can you ever forgive me for what i’ve done to you?)

it was an unreasonable apology, and i erased myself because of my own self-hatred,

but not before leaving footprints of a migraine in your head, which you will inadvertently step on,

slip at, and hurt yourself…fuck. i don’t know why i’m like this. i don’t know why i have

to push and pull apart the only semblance of logic in my life, the only anchor

that keeps me from towing away from the tides, the last person that still feels real to me

when everything else has blurred into an amalgamated indistinct static background;

i don’t know why i feel so smothered, when you’re the only attention i’ll ever have and need.

at this point, the only thing we have is each other’s problems, and the way we both

jeered at it, taunted it, and blocked it out with our own shared playlists until we felt better—

but now that summer was just a distant memory, and so was the scarlet artwork we made of it.

you also needed comfort. but did even try? no. i ran away from the colliding wreckage

as if it wasn’t my fault, and i numbed myself out because i couldn’t do the same for y o u

i ‘ m  s o r r y  i  m a d e  y o u  s a y  s o r r y  s o  m u c h . . .

i  d i d n ‘ t  m e a n  t o  d e s t r o y  e v e r y t h i n g

~*~

iv.) the midnight closes. the violent curtain falls.

the cold glow of my computer screen was rude and restless

and it made my fingers promise, crossed and uncrossed, that i would

stay with it until it slips into comatose. i have rinsed my mouth with lukewarm water

a hundred times to try to wash out the taste of stale coffee, but it never came out and now

i’m stuck with it until morning, until another astrological moon cycle, until i lose

myself in the chemical moments of something that’s so artificially natural.

i’m constantly starving myself, stuck between confidence and relapsing withdrawals of

my past life that i thought i discarded when i finally held on to my shooting star,

but it was always tethered tightly to me by a crimson string. and it always probably will be.

i’m alone. i’m friends with people that talk shit to me in the mirror, and when i bite

my chapped lips and draw blood by accident, it almost feels like atonement. almost.

(i got what i came for and i can’t try again. this is what i want…..isn’t it?)

i know that there are people out there making fun of me and rolling their eyes

petulantly as they bask in the trite, whimsical “perfection” of their storybook existence

but not everything has a happy ending, and not every sad story has to end badly.

i don’t know. i’ll never know. i’m tired and i have responsibilities that i’m not

built for, and every crack turns into a break, and a break into shattered p i e c e s

t o m o r r o w  i ‘ l l  d o  t h i s  o v e r  a g a i n  .  u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  t o m o r r o w s .

~*~

v.) nocturnes.

( a n d  i ‘ l l  s t a y  h e r e )

u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  n u m b e r s  t o  c o u n t ,

a n d  t h o u g h t s  t o  f e e l ,

a n d  n i g h t s  t o  s t a y  a w a k e .

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Outbalanced

What are they saying, I’m not raw?
What the fuck you take me for?
All the sudden you hear what
I’ve said a hundred ways before?
I been pushed, I been trapped
Drug myself through hell and back…

~*~

The euphony and the madness

Calling out to the sane and the sadness

Conjuring up emotions I forgot I had

And when I have it, I have it bad

.

I don’t want to be down at all

But I don’t think can’t hear you now

As it doesn’t take much to drag me under

I want to be far away from forever

.

I just can’t figure it out, figure it out

I’m counting on things added by a zero

Pretending there’s a cause to be had

Pretending like I’ll be the next fucking hero

.

Because here I was, thinking I’m okay

But when the worst gets bad, I don’t want to stay

Here I am still hoping not to run out of space

But the chase got me tripping all in the wrong place

.

I’ll compose myself when time stops again

Black out all the memories with bitter novocaine

I’ll try to stay sober as I numb out the relapse

Keep the light off my eyes until this overthinking stops.

~*~

Sometimes, sometimes you don’t say goodbye once
You say goodbye over and over and over again
Over and over and over again…

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The Weakness

And as I’ve aged, the only thing I think has changed
Is that the demons have moved from under my bed
Into the inner depths of my head
I can’t escape the ugly things my mind creates
I speculate that they’ll stay with me ’til the grave…

~*~

I scream to the wreck of my mind on my knees

Pray for death’s innocence for my untimely release

When the hurt is too little, the numb is too much

When I want to feel more but I’m just too detached

.

“The disease is not real, you have no right to be sad”

Their way of caring is not caring when I start to get bad

Waiting to understand, when every time is just a relapse

Swing the pendulum again until lines on my skin overlap

.

And their laughter becomes a never happily ever after

I escape in the bedroom with that ugly mocking mirror

When home feels like choking fingers around my throat

I splash my face with dreams to convince myself to cope

.

Thinking that someday soon I will be just who I want to be

But when I say the words, it just feels like lip-syncing to me

I’m on the brink of the bottomless cliff, but I refuse to jump

Because a fool is just another fool waiting for the right bump

.

So I scream to the wreck of my mind to grow some wings

And pray for life’s corruption for me to be finally released

When giving up is too easy, and it’s difficult to fucking hope

I cling to what little miserable faith I have and try not to let go.

~*~

I can’t help the way my mind
Is hardwired to hate myself
Is there any hope for me?
‘Cause I swear that this is hell
The way I desperately try to save myself
‘Cause I can’t save myself…

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enough said

You wanna move mountains? Go ahead
I think I’ll suffocate instead
A change of scenery won’t tame
The endless earthquakes in my head
They’re all in my head, so I’ll suffer through
A means to an end, it’s all I can do…

~*~

i’m not the one at fault

but i’m the only cause you see

so i have to take the effect

what do you want me to do?

i’ve cut myself up until

both my mind and veins are drained

but not of all the guilt that i carry

and still, would it be enough?

would it be enough for you?

.

i’m just so tired of waiting

until i stop being such a fucking liability

and i start being your healthy host

that you parasites can ravage

just so i could atone for what i did

or at least just so you would see it that way

because what else is there?

saying “i’m sorry” when i don’t mean it?

that wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?

.

but then again, it’s my fault

for being way too fucking optimistic

i don’t accept good and bad luck

and that this time i struck out

no, it’s all about positives and negatives

call it a karmic irony, if you may

find a way to be a little happy for once

and life drags you down through 7 layers of hell

tell me, loved ones, was i never enough?

.

and i couldn’t even write about it

because you’d call me selfish and shallow

that i have no right to be depressed

because i’m living the “good life”

and that i see only myself in all this

well, of course i fucking do

i need to place myself somewhere

otherwise i wouldn’t see the bigger picture

but don’t you see, loved ones?

will you never see that i’ve had enough?

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Seeing Red

I thought I could.

I really thought I could.

But I can’t. I can’t.

And the worst part is:

This doesn’t even

Fucking hurt me anymore.

I have nothing else to do.

I have nowhere else to be.

Guess I couldn’t.

Guess I’ll fucking never.

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just a little more for overdose

My mind is wide asleep, my conscience deep awake 
The promises I keep are not the ones I make 
I count the caustic causes, I lost count of regrets 
A surplus of good intentions, don’t provide me with content 
All I want is just a little content…

~*~

my mother

has a secret stash of valium

and i want to find it

and drink it all

to keep myself from

impulsively banging my

migraine-shot head

into the wall

and possibly haemorrhage

because she doesn’t believe me

that i am in pain

i’m in pain.

and it’s not just physical

but if it doesn’t show

in thermometers and bruises

that must mean

i’m faking it

to get out of class

because what sane person

wouldn’t want to feign

being suicidal for such petty reasons?

i’m breathing heavily,

ragged cries echoing hollowly

on the bathroom tiles, and

my feet are shivering

from stepping on the wet floor

for too long, but i can’t run away.

i try to make up my mind,

waiting for the spots of blood

to catch in my ivory soap

but instead the tears beat them to it.

it hurts it hurts IT HURTS

i want to scream

but my younger sister is still eating her

breakfast obliviously outside,

most likely wondering

why the hell

i have been silent

for more than 30 minutes now

i hope she thinks i’m dead.

i hope i wish i’m dead.

i’m waiting for her to leave already

so i could tiptoe out

of the bathroom

and get a new pair of metal smiles

goddamnit, she better hurry up.

meanwhile, my mother is ready to shove

the wall clock down my throat

and shriek at me that

i’m already running late

i know she wants me dead.

I know i want to be dead.

and of course, she blames me

for staying up to do

the only thing i can do

to try to just fucking stay alive

better to be dying inside

than to waste my cold future

and skip a day of class

(as if i have a future at that point)

i don’t have to be a liability

to her, to any of them, right now

and this sickness was

my own undoing,

i was clearly asking for it.

i’m guilty

of what i know

but not of what i did

to myself or them

but for what i did even though

i have what i need alone

…i’m fucking weak,

i know already.

and to think that i actually

cared for these bastards

once or even twice

in my life—how disgusting.

my mother

has a secret stash of valium

that she’s probably

knocking down

all at once to keep from

impulsively slamming

my migraine-shot head into

the pristine white walls

because she thinks that i’m a liar

and since i guess i am…i fucking believe her

just as much as she believes

that i am in pain.

i’m in pain.

~*~

I choose the beaten path, I’ve been to where it leads 
Why I keep coming back, a mystery to me 
I found what I’ve been seeking, it’s too late for me to care 
My aspiration’s leaking from a hole I can’t repair 
Maybe I just don’t want it repaired.

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concerns

i hope i’m not getting blood

on the sheets i barely sleep in

i don’t want my family to worry

about how to wash away the stains

without using strong colour-fading chlorine.

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