I cannot stop the distance growing from this stagnancy
Realizing I cannot love you without hating myself
Has left me unsure of what to do with these hands
That both reach out and resist
(Or what I want you to do with yours)
Gasoline spit
Words like matches
I’m screaming through fire
Crying into ashes
~
Severed connections
Every bridge is burned
Swear I didn’t want this
A lesson I never learned
~
Pyre of solitude
Flames crash in blue waves
There’s nothing left
But ruins and graves
I’m lost inside myself
seeing red within the blue
misery and hate roll beneath my skin
giving it a stormy, purple hue
with blood in the water
ripped flesh in the sea
my demons are starved
and ready to feed
I abandoned something long ago
A piece of my mind
A part of my soul
Once an easy careless daze
I’m lost within this haze
Trapped in my ways
I’ve tried to kill my demons
But I’m nothing without them
We were once friends
They made me who I am
I can’t escape their grasp
A prisoner to debts of my past
Struggling to move forward
When I can only see behind
Am I too far gone within this darkness
Or am I merely blind?
I’m just trying to find
My peace of mind
I did what I had to survive
To keep breathing
I let a part of me die
Now I weep at its grave
Wish to once again feel alive
But all I feel is dead inside
I’ve tried to shake this sickness
To leave all I’ve known
But I’m stuck in its hold
And it won’t let me go
Like quicksand ever time I rise
Slowly I’m pulled back down below
My sanity is Hell’s permanent guest
My soul damned to lie in bitter unrest
Consumed by this darkness
Lost and blind
Hopelessly searching for
My piece of mind
I’ve tried to find love for this skin
Yet I only find loathing, sorrow, and pain
How could someone ever love something so vacant?
Of everything good I’m suddenly undeserving
My mind is shrouded by a selective mist
Darkness creeps silently into my vision
I wake up and hate myself for it
Wishing I would have never risen
You’re wasting your love
Wasting your breath
I’m too far gone
Within this sick mindset
I am not enough, not right for you
And though I try I never will be
Better options lie at your fingertips
Don’t settle for less than you deserve
I am an illusion of ideal, an idea you augment
But I will come up short without fail
My burden will grow heavier until you’re left
With only regret and disappointment
You’re wasting your love
Wasting your breath
I’m too far gone
Within this sick mindset
You might think you are in love with me
But you’ll find it merely a passing infatuation
One day you will laugh at the thought of
Having ever been able to belive otherwise
And I will drown in bittersweet relief
Knowing you will have finally realized
You’re better off, as all are,
With anyone but me
Fucked up, disgusting, rotting mess
Gnarled hands tug at too much flesh
A heavy heart hurts from love’s slow beating
Lungs burn at the accusation of breathing
If only I could eradicate my existence
Staring into the mirror I see my greatest enemy, my dearest friend, hating every inch of skin, carefully trying to make amends. I hold others like newborn swallows yet do not know how to speak gently to the child beneath my own ribs. I stifle its cries, point out every flaw, tear through flesh with my eyes; I guess that makes me abusive. But words don’t leave bruises and though self loathing hurts, the pain is easier to bear when I know I deserve it. To push myself over the brink so that I might drown and sink to my lowest is somewhat of a comfort. Knowing things can’t get worse and that I couldn’t feel any more hurt than this is the only way to escape. Running is so tiring, my sorrow so alluring; to lie and die with Misery once again is the easiest way to stop feeling.
I think I was made to disappear. I cannot stay in one place too long before I begin to lose all I dare hold dear and fade from the world. It is not that I wish to let go, to die, I simply despise being alive. If I could only cease to exist…how soothing it would be to quietly slip into the night. Living in a dark void sounds rather pleasant; to float in nothingness, rather divine. My bones feel hollow– they echo and ache. This body is made up of odds and ends and expectations, with nothing being truly my own. There is no piece of me I love and yet every inch, I loathe. This heart has never felt the peace of a home. I fear I will never belong to anyone for too long; holding onto a ghost is no easy task, I hear. I try my best to put my demons to sleep so that I might not fear loving deeply, but they escape my grasp and remind me how lovely it is to be lonely. I am fading again.
I had learned how to live with my sorrows– I can feed my demons just long enough to sate their appetite, long enough to hurt just right. Flirting with Misery has made it such an easy lover to run back to when I can no longer fight to keep breathing in life. Being dead inside was the only way I could survive drowning, but now I’m dry and I’ve forgotten how to be alive. My lungs are exhausted, heaving oxygen when they had grown used to water. My body feels heavy on this dry land after floating for years through the trenches of the sea. If only others could see what I see, just how disgusting this rotting embodiment of flaws can be; perhaps then they would realize they do not love me after all. I can hardly withstand being with me, myself, and I. I am the heaviest burden I bear. How could anyone else live with a pile of despair and call it beautiful? How could they sense such a sickness within and proclaim their love? I do not belong amongst the living. I do not belong by anyone’s side. I am an excess burden to bear, I beg you, hold me no longer for your own sake. I would rather tell you the mistake that I am before you waste your time. I’d rather you cast me aside now with pain in your eyes than later with a familiar look of regret and disappointment.
I never hurt myself in ways
that other souls could see.
I’d go about it quietly,
almost silently,
heard Mamma call it
“Mental instability“.
At night she’d soothe my cries
when the voices screamed inside my mind
It’s not leaving if there’s nothing left behind!
But Daddy decided not to listen,
says I’m just trying to get attention.
A bloody angel on the linoleum floor,
sorry Daddy, I’m an attention whore.
Rushed to the hospital,
can’t stop the giddy laughter.
The darkness was coming faster,
faster!
“Sick in the head!”
the doctor said.
“The voices aren’t real!”
Mama pled.
“It’s all for show!”
Daddy led.
Off I was whisked to my padded home,
left in a room alone,
alone.
The voices grew,
the darkness too.
“We’ll make you better”
they said, but I knew,
magic pills were too good to be true.
They said, they said,
they fucking said,
and all of them,
they fucking lied!
Let them fix me!
Let them try!
I’ll get the last laugh
for soon they’ll find
They’re too late,
I’ve been long dead,
it’s just a slow suicide.
You’re just another knife who needs a sheath
and if it makes you happy
I’ll let you stab me in the side.
The back is already taken,
but there’s still some life left in me to die.
I despise how these poisonous thoughts drip from the crevices of my mind down my spine like a cerebral leak and cause a tremor in my bones.
How these words of doubt seep into my heart, causing it to slow in a way much similar to those who are dying.
I have struggled with this feeling for quite some time,
the feeling of never being good enough for anyone.
The moment I tell you my name I know one day it will be said in utter disappointment.
It has polluted my relationships with other for years, a constant build up of self loathing and past insecurities that create a haze
so thick it’s hard to breathe and even harder for others to find me when I lose myself in it all.
I become so small that I disappear,
leaving only a trace of regret and a whisper of “I’m sorry”.
Because that’s what I do when I begin to feel that familiar weight of my oldest, most nurtured demon clinging to me like a child in need-
I disappear.
So quietly that you question whether I was there at all.
I suppose in the end I’d rather be hurt by something familiar than by you.
FROM FIRE TO ASHES 