' 'Abuse' 'toxic relationships’; depression ; death ; imagery ;
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The House I Used To Lived In
Somehow I miss . . .
Wallpaper peeling
Paint fading
Wood rotting away
I’ve decided that I want to die
There’s nothing left for me here
No tears, no laughter
I can’t even cry
I’ve felt dead inside for so long
So many reasons
To believe in life itself
Wicked Gift
No sleep for the wicked, but don't mistake wicked for being gifted.
Maybe I’m just gifted at being wicked.
When my mind gets twisted, I find ways to get lifted.
Pulling away
I can feel you pulling away
A sinking but familiar feeling
A part of me is keeping strong
A part of me wants to fall apart
What does it really mean to be dependent?
Everyone needs someone because they can’t handle everything by themselves
Needing someone to lean on when it gets too much
Kind of depressing
Holding on to people
To not be lonely
Even though you feel alone
More than half the time
There’s something wrong here
Constantly battling with my brain and my heart
Trying to figure why all this happened from the start
Tugging at my heart strings and causing me pain
it’s okay to talk about things
it’s okay to speak
i’m begging you
to wear your heart
on your sleeve
and your tongue
Daddy filled the pen with them.
There were so many white as lambs of sin.
Written red in their fur as brains fell in.
They piled up as the children of men;
I need to numb the hurt
I cannot face this hurt
When it looks so much like you
I pick up swords
To fight you off
But they turn to sand in my palms
UNSEEN Life is precious do all you can to treasure it, There’s something unseen coming to take it. There’s a point in life when all goes wrong and sickness gets the best of you. You feel the earth breaking and yourself sinking as if you ain’t stan
I am like a flower
One season I am alive
The other I am dead.
Well by meaning alive
I wish someone would break into my house
So I could kill somebody
But I don’t mention it
To my psychiatrist
Show your condolance for my epitaph
" A burnt soul in amber, Mortal Death"
Social elegy slashed thy immortal remains
Bird with clipped wings, face without mouth
Shuned Moon cossets doomed Carcass
Hark ,her moans mourned.
Cries thwarted on insensate walls
that once treasure volatile bliss.
Dido of Uttarpara! As idiotic as it sounds.
Wafting on marble with drapped blanket,
There’s a place that’s almost heaven where we used to shoot BB guns at birds and ride four wheelers into the woods.Run without shoes in the mud with me,Push me into the creek bed
