FlatlineI can't breathe It's so coldI'm drowning I can't seeThe light's fadingWhere am I?Who knows I can't hearSirens scream in my ears,Wrapping their fingers around my throatI shout and yell Only to hear silence once againI'm sinking Deeper, darkerUnknown I'm bruised, brokenThe breakers, they're comingThey've always held my handBut now they're letting goI gasp for air as blood fills my lungsI cryMy eyelids feels heavyMy throat is soreThe pulse from my chest grow slowerDarkness surrounds meHope is dimI'm gone
That Child - 1.5-- "IT" --I don't know him anymore. He's not the same "kiddo" he used to be. Who are you now?...Why do I even bother. He can't hear me anymore, can he?He's not the same. He's different.Not because he hugs his torn, tear-stained teddy bear to his chest and needs a night light on 24/7 or he'll start wailing. The fact that there are demented drawings that seems to be drawn by a 3 year old child scattered across the room makes no difference. Only thing that was unsettling was his continuous and seemingly endless stare at a plain, blank wall, standing still before him. His eyes are hollow. He mutters quietly, softer than a whisper, in a language that I, and most likely anyone else, don't, or will ever know. From what I can see, he's only the cold, lifeless shell of my dear ol' "kiddo." Other than that, there's nothing left. Nothing left of him. What are you now?...He giggles. No, not "he", "it.""What are you, what do you see
PerfectionYour ego wants.It is sometimes disguisedas your heartor your mind.butYOU don't want.you simply A R EYour worldly desires tell youthat you could bericherprettierhappierwhen everything you needyou already have.
if only for the night.she did notwant love, she wantedthorns twisted in hersteel fingersdigging into thesharp metal. sheneeded to b r e a kpeople. and she hadthe devil in hereyes and death onher skin:a walkingdisaster. shetasted likedanger incarnated;i knew by theway she wrapped herhands around mywrists she coulddestroy me. sn / ap mybones at will butshe never did andthe blue of her eyesdrownedme inchangingtides ofliquid fire. we spent one nightstaring at theceiling tracingconstellationson paper-skin andpretending to beartists of the universejust to feelalive.(before she left welay side by side at dawn withour chests splintered.)
A world of porcelain peopleWe live ina world fullof prettyfaçades; everyoneis a livingmasqueradein thisday and age:pick up yoursmiling faceat daybreak anddrape it over theviolet stainsbeneath youreyelids;walk aroundaimlessly -we are allsleepwalkers,eyes open butclosed.we are all pretty porcelain peopleliving in a pretty porcelain worldand our masksare startingto crack.(and reveal the ugly truth)
Depression Isn't RealDepression isn’t true, my dearDepression isn’t real.It’s just a silly tragedyYou’ve forced yourself to feel.Anxiety is fake, my friendYou wonder why it’s there.But others have it worse than you!Stop forming false despair.Cutting is dramatic, love,It’s ugly, and it’s dumb.Why not just get over it?Is the attention fun?Suicide is stupid, dear,And selfish, if I may.Get over yourself, darling,Can you hear these things I say?Why aren’t you replying, love?Oh, where could you have gone?I never meant to hurt you, love,Did I say something wrong?Why aren’t you replying, dear?Depression isn’t true!…Oh, but yes it was, “my dear”...Just maybe not for you.
LightLight pooled in the floes of her fleshthe warm tone of polluted amberit ran down the window,the stream broken in places by silhouettesand other such distractionsit spilled, soundlessand flooded silken sheetssetting adrift the skin and breath and whispers of herMachiavellian schemesto steal away into the polluted darkher sighs overflowed, sonorouspouring into the amber and blackthe constellations dotted along herdisrupted in places by the shadows of treesand other such poetry
Dirty Brother KillerMy bro...He believed thatYou were good...But I know the truth...You enjoy seeing us die,Covered in the color crimson,While laughing at us,Screaming in pain,And agony...Frisk...All of us cared,Protected,And even loved you.But after Papyrus-...I know...In this very moment...Your going to hell...And there's nothing...That will stop me from doing it...DIRTY BROTHER KILLER!
stardust. (you're beautiful)he'sout of orbit -interstellar spacedust in hisveins rise andfall witheach word thatdrips and poolsbeneath hishoneyed tongue;silenceis betweenhis knuckle-bones,sharp anddefined like theribcage of ababy bird, hismazarine eyeswere not made forthis earth butfor the stars.andsome days hefades in andout of reality likehe never reallywanted to be thereat all.on those daysi just thinkmy god, you really don'trealise how amazing you are.
Porcelain I was porcelainI trusted you to hold meI would shine for youPolished to perfectionI was porcelainYou were a childCarelessYou didn't know what you heldYou let me fallDidn't care when I shatteredYou were a childI was porcelainBegging to be fixedBattered and brokenI was helplessI was porcelainYou were a childYou left me thereShattered on the floorPretending it didn't happenPretending it wasn't youYou were a childI was porcelainAnd you were a careless childOne day I hope you realizeYou didn't know what you heldYou broke the family heirloomI hope you regret it
your poemyou tell me on a thursday that you can’t findthe god inside of yourself anymore, thatyou think that you are finallytoo much honeycomb and not enough humanbecause lately everything has been slippingthrough your fingers, and you don’t know how you cankeep holding yourself together anymore.if today is the day that you lookat the stars and you no longerfeel their burn beneath your bones,i will show you the blanket i tried to makewhen i was eight, and i will tell you all i knowabout the string theory, which isn’t much, i admit,but i do know the basics,and that’s that everything in the universeis composed of strings that somehowloop onto each other infinitely.so whenever you feel like you’rewalking a tightrope without a safetynet below you, know that you arethousands of tightropes strung together,and one fall will not kill you.i have never told you about the wayi can feel my pulse skitter to a stopin my wrists whenever i hear you laughing
TearsDon't cryYou have friendsYou have familyYou have loveDon't cryYou have shelterYou have foodYou have waterDon't cryYou have everything you needDon't cryFor there's still hope