Pain without love,
Pain, I can’t get enough
Pain, I like it rough
Because I’d rather feel pain
Than nothing at all
I’ve tried to convince myself that I’ve been feeling better.
But how do you feel better when you can’t feel at all?
I’ve tried to convince myself that I’m doing better.
I’ve stopped cutting and popping pills, but I smoke everyday.
I don’t see a point to my life. I’m not happy with being good, I have to be the best. But I’m obviously not the best, and how could I be? I’m lazy, I have bad habits, I’m gaining weight, and I’m not even that nice a person. I don’t see a point in going through every day with no motivation and nothing to look forward to. I don’t even have friends that I want to wake up to. I feel nothing for anybody or anything, so what’s the point? The only thing I do feel is hate for myself and social situations. At least I have a reason for hating people. All the ever do is leave or make your life hell in some way.
Is it too much to ask that I be the one who leaves for good this time?
Waking Up After 42 Hours of Dreaming
I wish I didn’t care,
But I do
Climbed up every broken stair
For you
Only to fall and
Crack my head
Looking to wake up
But realize
I’m dead.
A Day Worth Waiting For
If you were to cut my heart out
and place it before me on a platter
That’d be a day worth waiting for
I’d love to see your surprise at the blackness;
The emptiness of my pitiful heart
That day, I would taste the salt of tears unshod
As I licked the bile that surrounds
This black, empty, pitiful heart of mine
I’d love to see you hold back your vomit
At what a despicable creature I’ve become
That would be a day worth waiting for.
But unfortunately, that day will never come
Though you may cut my heart out and set it before me
I will not see it, nor be animated to lick it
Though my heart is dead, I still need it to live
Kill me softly
Kill me sweetly
Kiss my skin slowly
Blade caressing deeply
Die, mockingbird, die
Do not mock me any longer
Die, mockingbird, die
I don’t want to hear you sing
And when the blade starts to speak
that’s when my blood shall weep
Expect the worst and you’ll never be disappointed.
Your heart’s a mess
You won’t admit to it
It makes no sense
But I’m desperate to connect
And you, you can’t live like this
You must be so happy you don’t have a mind like me.
It’s obvious I have a mental illness. Every time I forget to take my antidepressants my head hurts like my very skull is ripping apart, and I finally have my muse again.
