Tag Archives: suicide

closer to closure

Consider this, consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
What if all these fantasies come
Flailing around, now I’ve said too much…

~*~

fucking upset.

why is that so?

is it thinking about

the deliberate act

of running steel beyond

your muscle enough

to hit bone, or is it

the happy thought that your

friends won’t give a

fuck about you anymore?

self-pitying act, you

find yourself repulsive

and reel back more as you

find yourself glorifying

the tasteless apathy

.

won’t be missed.

a face like wiped fog

on the windowpane

awkward jokes that never

hit humour quite right

undecoded personality

no one will want to

put up with anymore

won’t be missed?

tears might fall at a

funeral, but it will quickly

wash off, along with you

and the way you laugh

and your paper body

won’t. be. missed.

.

and still, no one.

but why do you even

pretend to be surprised?

the curiosity of their

imminent reactions

burns a giant hole

in your dysfunctional

brain and makes you

grimace, deceptive smile

a burning impulse to

get it over with and find out

are you fucking upset

that you know no one will

give a fuck, or because

you already saw it coming?

~*~

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough…

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Deathwatch

There’s no point in hiding the truth from a freak

She let her arms swell as he took a big bite, let it stick

So that the vessel ropes he could find a little easier

And all that remains would mean nothing else to her

.

Does it hurt this much to be okay? Am I all that will be gone?

Her questions were relentless, and his curt answers stung

All he could tell was that blood’s quite softer than water

And clorox swirls down the drain just a little bit slower

.

Don’t find me out yet, I’m still purging all of my guilt

Grey is just something when all these pills taste like filth

Her stomach emptied as his was filled, one more for the road

But pray don’t slip on the wet tiles, though comfortingly cold

.

Get out of that fucking phase! Are you just dying for style?

Well, I love you too mother dearest, you won’t be yelling for a while

An attention seeking bitch, just can’t be more like the others

You’re only ever good with your head submerged underwater

.

And so what if I am? Why, would I look bad in your final will?

Her spite crammed the walls and the shadows were thrilled

He stayed silent, quite cautious, let the anger be his chance

If it’s only to prove your point to me, then I know my own stance

.

Teethmarks stuck vicariously to the mould like their grotesque signature

His embrace was eternally automatic, and she was just a friendly reminder

Because really, what was the point? We’re just a bunch of deadweight freaks

But she made sure to stick out her arms and wear the truth on her sleeve.

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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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find a way out

and i am ready to lose

so much more than myself

dissociation doesn’t last

thinking takes in bad health

nauseated from existing

mantras of “it doesn’t matter”

another jaded insomniac

tired from drifting underwater

so then tell me i’m wrong

say that life’s just far too pretty

to waste on feeling nothing

it won’t make me any less empty

too weak to keep breathing

but still too spineless to ever die

please grant me the courage

to believe i could end this, if i try.

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You Get Me So High (All The Time)

You sat in front of me tensely; shaky hands, quivering lips, splintered voice, I almost believed you for a second

I’m not looking for an apology. I’m not looking for love. I’m just looking out for myself

Your hair tangled like barbed wires, dirty fingernails agitatedly running through it in an attempt to search for an answer—why? Why not?

I’ve heard the same dialogue before. It tastes the exact same way it did when I woke up this morning and felt only cold bedsheets and bitter advil on my tongue, spit it out

Betrayal. Is that what you called it? Is that how badly you think of me? Dirty traitor. Is that what I am?

The viselike grip on my throat slowly tightens, leaving just enough space for a final dignified gasp. The wooden chair creaks an inch

But you kicked it over. Swinging like autumn leaves, a bit dramatic. I did it all for you. Surely you must have. Let’s see them figure you out without a crumpled note to tell them why

Because I honestly don’t know either, dear. Whiskey and aftershave makes me feel dizzy and I can’t think clearly. Have to t h r o w – u p

Bruises line the bathroom wall and I stumble over your slippery tears. Were you listening behind the door, when I was crying my face out? Yes. Quite wet. A quick shower doesn’t sound so bad. Might get rid of all the nasty stains on my shirt

Fucking crazy bastard, you spitefully whisper on the other side of the fogged-up glass, and I can’t help but smile back, diamond girl

Isn’t that why you fell for me?

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Filed under Prose

Goodbye Mausoleum

The normal man, promised all things
Brought into this, taken by pain
He mistook home for grave
The normal man, filtered by hate
Living to pay, buying what’s fake
He mistook home for grave
It’s not what we’re made to be
So why’d he do it?

~*~

You took one taste of notoriety

And now you smell like a funeral march

Kindle the pain with some anxiety

To shatter the ground beneath you apart

.

You cannot decode what’s right anymore

So you left the rope hanging in your closet again

Someday, you’ll be brave enough to wear it

But for now, the bruises will make do and repent

.

And you spin, and you spin, dizzy out of control

Dance with faux illusions as you seethe with the wind

Picking at the cracks until it grows into a hole

For you to fall under, but you’re just too sick to grieve

.

For you might be strong, but the hurt’s indestructible

Fight all you want, since you’re so used to losing

Scissors and blindfolds reveal no justice for terrors

Fight all you want, the ammunition’s reloading

.

To empty all your thoughts away and clear your hollow head

There’s no rest for the wicked but there’s some rest for the dead

And the headline isn’t too morbid, the parade is solemn and slow

Oh, how they all loved to see you buried and yet they hated to see you go.

~*~

I guess he just did not know
I guess we just do what we’re told
The anthem cries, but why listen?
I guess we just do what we’re told
Betrayed again, betrayed again
What began as life for him
Was only sorrow, was only shame…

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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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Last Answer

You see I’m wasted
I can’t quite get up yet
You see my head’s off resting
In this delusional stare
The room kept spinning and spinning
And spinning and spinning
And I’m a fucking mess…

~*~

this is the silent kind

of slow suicide—

the one that withers

you from the inside out,

the one that leaves

no tear nor bloodstain

on the canvas of your scars,

the purest kind where

there is no solace,

no escape, no more cry for help.

only a suffocating scream

welling up and banging

against your ribs,

begging to be felt, to

be heard, to be let out now…

but you are too empty,

and to let it out is to free

yourself completely

from all the numbness,

all the questions, and all of the

fucking weight you’ve been

carrying inside your mind;

dragging you down

fast into deep quicksand.

and if you allow that,

and you allow yourself to float,

and you allow nothing else

to keep you from holding on,

would you do it?

would you take the chance

and completely slip away, instead

of still suffering from the

slow kind of silent suicide?

~*~

So I closed my eyes
I shut them so tight
To witness explosions
Of pure colour and beauty
The room kept spinning and spinning
I start to think a little differently
At what we are
I watched the colour drain
From the world that day…

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Filed under Poetry

Baby Overdose;

One too many opened blister packets.

Chalky blue tablets swallowed down; bitter, choking, dry,

Words bleed out of my brain and morph into seven-headed visions, and

My heavy tongue feels like grating metal and frigid sandpaper as

I carefully utter the slurred words that would reach no one—

I hope you’re fucking better now.

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Filed under Poetry

24 – no doubt

through metal and fire

sinews of flesh interred

lost restraint and desire

pleading tongues left sold

.

“it hurts to keep it all in”

hurts even more to speak

i must look rather grim

but soon overdose will kick

.

against the side of my brain

and knock me out for good

concealing all cravenly stains

before i finish what i should

.

through liars and lighters

i flayed to search for some rest

so lay me down to agony

and hope the worst’s for the best.

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Filed under Poetry