She bleeds dark secrets. There is no way back.
She doesn't want to find one, anyway.
The pressure is intense. She starts to crack.
Somehow, she makes it through another day.
She talks small talk. They think that she is fine,
and mostly, can't be bothered if she's not.
She knew the score and where to draw the line,
but didn't see it coming: perfect shot -
right on target. She didn't stand a chance.
Soon, so soon - already in too deep -
intoxicated by obsession's dance.
The night possesses her. By day, she'll sleep.
Thursday, 21 November 2013
Wednesday, 20 November 2013
"If You Want Me To Say"
if you want me to say
that, sure, I'd be okay
I would survive
I would recover
it wouldn't kill me
not completely destroy me
I'd be over it soon enough
if that's what you need me to say
then I guess I can lie
that, sure, I'd be okay
I would survive
I would recover
it wouldn't kill me
not completely destroy me
I'd be over it soon enough
if that's what you need me to say
then I guess I can lie
"Defeated"
You cannot know how much I hurt inside.
You will never understand. Why would you?
Every pointless tear that I have cried
counts for nothing - and, yes, my point of view
is irrelevant to you. I know that.
Life's lonely for the one who gives a damn,
and disappointment's still where I am at.
Always another door for them to slam
in my face. Well, next time I will think twice.
Nobody else will ever make me care.
Nobody else will make me pay the price,
and I have very little left to share.
I gave everything. I am depleted -
feeling suicidal and defeated.
You will never understand. Why would you?
Every pointless tear that I have cried
counts for nothing - and, yes, my point of view
is irrelevant to you. I know that.
Life's lonely for the one who gives a damn,
and disappointment's still where I am at.
Always another door for them to slam
in my face. Well, next time I will think twice.
Nobody else will ever make me care.
Nobody else will make me pay the price,
and I have very little left to share.
I gave everything. I am depleted -
feeling suicidal and defeated.
"Addiction" (about Imodium literally, and also as a metaphor)
tiny tubes of green and purple
or dreams dissolving into white
bring me your false comfort
your complications
your dark deceit
help me to make it through
another day
another desperate and dependent day
soothe me
I can't see another way
or dreams dissolving into white
bring me your false comfort
your complications
your dark deceit
help me to make it through
another day
another desperate and dependent day
soothe me
I can't see another way
Monday, 18 November 2013
"Confused and Broken"
Can't analyse the type of love I feel
when all I want to do is scream: "Don't die."
It's not like Cancer. It just seems unreal -
and, even though, sure, I've been close myself, why
would I want to understand this? Yet, I do -
but won't accept that suicide's okay.
But, if it is, should I go that way, too?
Because you just won't see another way,
and I just can't face living without you.
when all I want to do is scream: "Don't die."
It's not like Cancer. It just seems unreal -
and, even though, sure, I've been close myself, why
would I want to understand this? Yet, I do -
but won't accept that suicide's okay.
But, if it is, should I go that way, too?
Because you just won't see another way,
and I just can't face living without you.
Thursday, 14 November 2013
"More Lies"
Lies hurt.
They tear me apart.
I can't take any more.
What do I even carry on for?
I don't know where to start,
or how to mend my shattered heart.
Lies hurt.
They tear me apart.
And there are always more -
always more lies.
They tear me apart.
I can't take any more.
What do I even carry on for?
I don't know where to start,
or how to mend my shattered heart.
Lies hurt.
They tear me apart.
And there are always more -
always more lies.
Wednesday, 13 November 2013
"Cruel Twist"
I remember those moments:
the happiest times in my life.
They remain, but are mocked
somehow - by more lies:
another - and yet another - cruel twist
of fate's knife.
the happiest times in my life.
They remain, but are mocked
somehow - by more lies:
another - and yet another - cruel twist
of fate's knife.
Sunday, 10 November 2013
"Where are You?" (for Stacey)
I shut the world out,
but not you, until
maybe in the end, I did -
but, still -
you know that, at that particular time,
I let you in, and only you.
The story's end just leaves me stunned.
What can I do?
Where are you? You're still around, right?
I know that you're not really gone,
but I can't feel you any more.
Why can't I feel you, like I did?
I have this useless store
inside my head - the thoughts,
emotions - ones I want to share
with you. Your spirit's disconnecting.
I can't feel you anywhere.
It scares me. Don't you understand?
I need you. I need you here.
My living friends abandon me,
but always, you stayed near.
Where are you? Are you leaving, too? I'm scared.
but not you, until
maybe in the end, I did -
but, still -
you know that, at that particular time,
I let you in, and only you.
The story's end just leaves me stunned.
What can I do?
Where are you? You're still around, right?
I know that you're not really gone,
but I can't feel you any more.
Why can't I feel you, like I did?
I have this useless store
inside my head - the thoughts,
emotions - ones I want to share
with you. Your spirit's disconnecting.
I can't feel you anywhere.
It scares me. Don't you understand?
I need you. I need you here.
My living friends abandon me,
but always, you stayed near.
Where are you? Are you leaving, too? I'm scared.
"Three Years" (for Stacey)
How did she know obsessions that are mine?
The ones I hadn't even formed back then?
Could she tell whom I was to meet and when?
I'm with her - on sanity's borderline.
Three years have passed. It feels like yesterday,
or else three hundred years ago instead.
She didn't need more people in her head,
knowing that all too soon, they'd go away.
What would have happened if she hadn't died?
Would she have left, or would it have been me?
She knew how these things always have to be -
that certain issues can't be rectified.
Three years, since I first felt my engine stall.
Three years, and I've still not moved on at all.
The ones I hadn't even formed back then?
Could she tell whom I was to meet and when?
I'm with her - on sanity's borderline.
Three years have passed. It feels like yesterday,
or else three hundred years ago instead.
She didn't need more people in her head,
knowing that all too soon, they'd go away.
What would have happened if she hadn't died?
Would she have left, or would it have been me?
She knew how these things always have to be -
that certain issues can't be rectified.
Three years, since I first felt my engine stall.
Three years, and I've still not moved on at all.
Tuesday, 5 November 2013
"From My Heart"
I wish you all peace,
and I wish you all love -
from my heart -
but, for my own part,
it is over.
I can let go now.
No more resentment.
From my heart,
although I am falling apart,
I send you all peace,
and love,
and healing.
But , as for myself,
it is over.
So I'm saying goodbye,
although it makes me cry,
and I can't
say it any
other way.
No drama, no fuss -
not some really big deal -
and I don't even know
exactly how or when,
it will
come:
my end.
I don't hate anyone -
maybe not even myself
any more,
but my will has gone.
My spirit is broken.
The long-term
physical and mental
deterioration -
along with rejection after rejection -
has destroyed
what was left.
Now I want to be free.
I need to be free.
I don't know when
or how,
but it has to end soon.
I didn't want to leave
such a mess
behind.
I'm not that type.
I would like pretty bows
to be tied
around what's left of me -
but my strength is failing me.
And this isn't the end.
There are other lives.
Believe that.
Hold on
to my memory,
my friends -
until
we meet again.
This isn't the end.
and I wish you all love -
from my heart -
but, for my own part,
it is over.
I can let go now.
No more resentment.
From my heart,
although I am falling apart,
I send you all peace,
and love,
and healing.
But , as for myself,
it is over.
So I'm saying goodbye,
although it makes me cry,
and I can't
say it any
other way.
No drama, no fuss -
not some really big deal -
and I don't even know
exactly how or when,
it will
come:
my end.
I don't hate anyone -
maybe not even myself
any more,
but my will has gone.
My spirit is broken.
The long-term
physical and mental
deterioration -
along with rejection after rejection -
has destroyed
what was left.
Now I want to be free.
I need to be free.
I don't know when
or how,
but it has to end soon.
I didn't want to leave
such a mess
behind.
I'm not that type.
I would like pretty bows
to be tied
around what's left of me -
but my strength is failing me.
And this isn't the end.
There are other lives.
Believe that.
Hold on
to my memory,
my friends -
until
we meet again.
This isn't the end.
Monday, 4 November 2013
"One Day I Won't"
I've seen too many "friends" just come and go.
Solution clear: Just don't trust anyone.
Failed at that, too. Now I just feel low.
Why must I fall for every lie and con?
I'll wait to get stabbed in the back once more.
It's not as if I don't know how it goes.
It's not as if I've not been there before.
Sure, each time's disappointing, and it shows.
I will survive, until one day, I don't.
The ones who've stayed - still never know how long...
They think I'll still be here. One day I won't.
Meanwhile, I must pretend that I am strong
enough to handle even more rejection:
price to pay for my misplaced affection.
Solution clear: Just don't trust anyone.
Failed at that, too. Now I just feel low.
Why must I fall for every lie and con?
I'll wait to get stabbed in the back once more.
It's not as if I don't know how it goes.
It's not as if I've not been there before.
Sure, each time's disappointing, and it shows.
I will survive, until one day, I don't.
The ones who've stayed - still never know how long...
They think I'll still be here. One day I won't.
Meanwhile, I must pretend that I am strong
enough to handle even more rejection:
price to pay for my misplaced affection.
"Disposable"
Just sometimes, when the world is closing in -
and nothing really makes much sense at all -
the moments when the room begins to spin -
the times when you erect your best brick wall
to hide behind - are my words making sense?
I doubt it. Nothing else is. Yes, I said.
I'm torn between the past and future tense -
but mostly, I just want to stay in bed.
The future is what I must always fear.
The past is mine to analyse - dissect.
I'll lose whatever I dare to hold dear.
I feel disposable. Eject - reject.
I care for people who don't value me.
Is this the way my life will always be?
and nothing really makes much sense at all -
the moments when the room begins to spin -
the times when you erect your best brick wall
to hide behind - are my words making sense?
I doubt it. Nothing else is. Yes, I said.
I'm torn between the past and future tense -
but mostly, I just want to stay in bed.
The future is what I must always fear.
The past is mine to analyse - dissect.
I'll lose whatever I dare to hold dear.
I feel disposable. Eject - reject.
I care for people who don't value me.
Is this the way my life will always be?
Friday, 1 November 2013
"Suicide"
And if she takes me now, what's left undone?
Who will be caught up in this web I've spun?
I never wanted to hurt anyone.
Who will be caught up in this web I've spun?
I never wanted to hurt anyone.
"Conclusion"
The ravens in my mind are dying.
The people in my world are lying.
Nothing's for real - but scarlet on steel.
I'll endure the pain, until I can feel
nothing more -
just my broken body, on a cold, concrete floor.
I will escape - some day, somehow.
Yet, all my heart knows is the here and now -
and how much it hurts -
how nothing converts
into usable currency,
and this world has no place for me - not currently,
not ever.
It's coming together:
the too obvious fact that I need a solution,
a conclusion:
an end to it all.
The people in my world are lying.
Nothing's for real - but scarlet on steel.
I'll endure the pain, until I can feel
nothing more -
just my broken body, on a cold, concrete floor.
I will escape - some day, somehow.
Yet, all my heart knows is the here and now -
and how much it hurts -
how nothing converts
into usable currency,
and this world has no place for me - not currently,
not ever.
It's coming together:
the too obvious fact that I need a solution,
a conclusion:
an end to it all.
"Eternal" (written on 31/10/13)
I draw their spirits close to me and breathe,
and still I find, there's something to believe.
I need their energies to make me strong.
I hear the subtle echoes: Samhain's song.
Nobody feels my reason - hears my rhyme.
My rhythms only work in my own time.
My words - they might make sense in my own mind.
My friends need other words - ones I can't find.
There is an angel buried somewhere near,
who told me that there's nothing left to fear.
Now, all my friends who've passed or gone away -
this is one life. What more is there to say?
In this one life, I'll mend what I can mend.
True friendship is eternal - has no end.
and still I find, there's something to believe.
I need their energies to make me strong.
I hear the subtle echoes: Samhain's song.
Nobody feels my reason - hears my rhyme.
My rhythms only work in my own time.
My words - they might make sense in my own mind.
My friends need other words - ones I can't find.
There is an angel buried somewhere near,
who told me that there's nothing left to fear.
Now, all my friends who've passed or gone away -
this is one life. What more is there to say?
In this one life, I'll mend what I can mend.
True friendship is eternal - has no end.
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