Four

I took four pills
With the promise of no more pain
But the pain was still there
So I took four more
But the pain was still there
So I took four more
And four more
And four more
And four more
And the pain was still there.

I'll be alright

I hate the wind for being so cold

but I'll be alright

The ongoing fire inside of my head
is enough to keep me warm

-

I have nowhere to lean anymore

but I'll be alright

The walls built around my heart
give me enough stability

Anxiety

There isn't enough oxygen around only me
And you even dared to take off
With the last breath that I struggled to breathe

I like to think of people who once "meant the world to me"

...and try to remember everything about him/her.

I try to remember the sentimental things: the good and bad times with him/her, the characteristics I liked and disliked about him/her, the way I felt when around him/her, etc. And then I also try to remember the physical things. I try to remember the color of his/her eyes, his/her height, the sound of his/her voice, etc.

It's usually when I can't remember what his/her voice sounded like when I realize (again and again) that a person whom I was once close to is no longer a part of my life. And that's okay. I get so terrified of becoming close to and then distant from people. But really, it's no big deal. It happens all of the time, and it isn't really a thing to fear.

Seperation

Disengage
Get away
I will not hurt you too
Detach and
Disconnect
Distance myself from you
Don't touch me
Don't love me
I can't care about you
This is for
Your own sake
You will understand soon

Inspiration

Inspire me,
sadness,
inspire me.
Whisper t' me beautiful words
that I may transcribe onto paper.
Paint the inside of my eyelids with
magnificent terror
that I may make visible
for the rest of the world.
Terrify me with beauty.
Make dying and death into
pleasant art
and not a thing of taboo.
Teach the rest of the people
to paint with blood too
as you have taught me to.
Be honest and real
and portray what life is,
take off the children's masks.
Inspire me,
sadness,
inspire me
to be more real like you.
Inspire me to take off my innocence
and to face reality truly.

She had the saddest fucking story, without a doubt. It almost bummed me out.

Fear of flowers

The snow finally falls
And the snowflakes stick
The world turns cold and white
But the beloved coldness shouldn't last
Or that's what they tell me
They tell me the sun will come
And the snow will melt
And the flowers will bloom
And the birds will sing
But I prefer the bare trees
And the brown grass
I prefer the silence
Please, Spring, don't ever come

Numbness

I keep telling myself that I am tree
And the season is only Winter
And that one day again the Spring will come
And my leaves will flourish again
But I am not a tree
And the season is not Winter
Everyone else I see is alive
Even once dead, once again
I, on the other hand, am dead
Have been and always will be
I am a numb, fragile skeleton
Like that of the dead Winter trees

The harlot's corpse

I've been being haunted
By the heart of a harlot's corpse
Not by her nasty ways
But by her crafty curse
For every night I fall asleep
In the arms of my shameful past
Praying that a hopeful future
Is not out of my grasp
And in the morning I awaken
This time I've had enough
The harlot's corpse shan't lure me more
With her romance off the cuff
In night again I fall asleep
This time in peaceful rest
Heaven nor Hell shall welcome me
Because darkness knows me best
Alike the harlot my corpse will rot
And feed into the dirt
The Earth will spin, the flowers bloom
The people will laugh and hurt
A victim new will be lured in
To the romance and the shame
Sleep will come, and darkness know
That this is not a game

Clinical depression

So here's a little story of a hapless punk
She was high all week and spent her weekends drunk
She was happy and content; she was doing fine
As long as the skin on her wrists was clad in bloody lines
She held a steady job; she made a decent wage
She had a perfect life, but she lived in a cage
She was everybody's puppet; she was such a fool
Thinking any day she'd turn and make her life her rule
She finally took control, and then it all went south
When the police showed up, she had a gun in her mouth
She then made the decision to try to figure it out
But she could never see through that vast, nebulous cloud
Confused and in a daze, she knew not where to go
She couldn't stop herself from spinning out of control
The cuts became deeper and the drugs became more often
From the choices she was making, she was building her own coffin
Everyone gave up when they saw that she had too
Her skin went pale and her lips turned blue
The doctors couldn't save her; they had been too late
And for the first time in long time she was truly doing great

Oxymora

Some people find happiness in their misery, and that's not to say that they're optimists - because the good lord knows they ain't. Some people, though, just enjoy being miserable, and there isn't a simple way to explain that. No, it doesn't make any sense at all. Yes, it contradicts itself. That's just how some of us are, though, and there ain't no changing that.

Sincerity

The pursuit of happiness

Is grounded in misery

And I'll be truly happy

When death comes to greet me

When my organs have failed

And begun to decay in the ground

In this state of being

Is where true joy will be found

It's cold

My mouth is so cold
my fingertips are so cold
my heart is so cold 
everything about me is so cold
that thinking brings me shivers
and the cold, wet rain doesn't help a bit
so that's why I bought myself an umbrella
to protect myself from the rain
because even cold rain on a cold body
can hit hard enough to pierce the skin
to reveal a layer of thick, cold blood.