Secrets

A stain on your soul, some may say.

A burden you hold that you must also lay.

The monster that feeds on all your insides.

The monster that forces you to run and hide.

You feel the burn of a label upon your heart.

You feel the pain of hate like piercing darts.

Unable to breathe from the force of a wave.

A wave invisible to others, you can never be saved.

Though the power is within you to find your help.

But the hand of fear silences your yelps.

Screaming and curling alone does no good.

Bleeding and wailing doesn’t fix what it should.

Slowly but surely your mind is engulfed.

It possesses you, and your spirit it tries to dissolve.

You flaunt and you grin, act like everything is alright.

Those who wish to be blind will never see your fight.

Still others will see and know not what to do.

While you wonder alone in a maze of you.

Yet you hold on to that power which you wish you never met.

You clutch and hold securely your dear secrets.

I say I want to to die, I say that death is so appealing, but once faced with it, I realize that I don’t want to die. I’m not ready for death, I want to be alive. I want to feel alive again, but I want darkness too. I want my addictions, I want my sins, therefore I want darkness. Is that right? I don’t really know what I want exactly. But I do know that I don’t want to dream of death anymore. I’m not ready yet.

I shouldn't of woken up today.

You have proven the voices in my head right.

I hope you are happy with yourself.

Hurting a person (indirectly) that is already pretty fucking broken to begin with.

Thank you for all the lies.

Thank you for the gossiping.

Congratulations.

You have won, I suppose.

But just remember, you do not know me.

You do not get me.

And you never will.

Slow Suicide

"I don't even know you and I'm worried about you", she said with her wide and too perfect smile. "Will you accept help?" Silence. Both sets of eyes were burning holes into the side of my head as I averted my eyes downward and pretended to ponder the texture of the blueish greenish carpet beneath our feet. "You need to answer the question. Will you accept help?" she repeated. "Do I have a choice?" , I snapped back at her still looking down towards the ground. "What are you afraid of? Don't you care about your mother, your family, your friends?", she asked "Of course I do", I responded "But no one can help me. All who have tried to fix me have failed. No doctor, medication, or therapy will ever change that." She quickly typed some notes on her computer. "You do not know that", she said in the most phony version of sympathy I had ever heard. Silence. "If things get worse we may have to use force. You wouldn't want that. For all this is is a slow form of suicide." Silence "We are just going to sit here until I say yes, I have no choice." She let out a piercing and bothersome giggle in attempt to lighten up the mood. "So does that mean you will accept?" Silence "This is no question, this is no offer. I have no choice", I stated through clenched teeth "Good! I'm glad we've made some progress, we will call you in a few days."

I wish I could easily reach out to you.

I wish you could easily reach out to me.

I keep the excuse that "it's not in my nature"

But really I am just frightened, I'm just scared.

Of what?

It's simple; rejection, neglect, abandonment.

It's a reoccurring theme in all my relationships.

Every single fucking one.

I thought she was different.

I thought he was different.

I thought they were different.

I was wrong.

Trusting people seems to always leave me more broken in the end.

I have lost all trust in the human race.

I look for the bad not the good in people.

For when I expect the worst I won't be as disappointed when I receive it.

But with you, I want to get to know you.

I want you to know that I understand.

I really do.

This headache will never cease.

These voices wont hush.

These feelings refuse to halt.

So I'll sleep it all away, pretend reality is merely a dream.

Perhaps this time I won't wake.

End

Shut my eyes.

Let me rest beyond the sun rise.

Dry my tears, just end it all.

I just want to stop this fall.

Could I simply sleep forever?

Is that such a crime?

Would you care if melted away?

What if it really was my time?

There are no more words left to say.

I’ve spent enough time wandering in this maze.

I need to get out.

This is not just a phase.

No one hears my shouts.

Its not your fault.

Its completely mine.

Just take it with a grain of salt.

Lets pretend, I’m just fine.

Make believe things will pass.

Time passes us by so fast.

Watch me drink myself into delirium.

If you wish you may lock me up in an asylum.

Keep me alive, make it be what you’ll accomplish

For I am I already dead, you have lost your wish.

Being tricked is probably one the most awful feelings in the world.

For it is made obvious what a fool you are, how much you don't matter, and how pointless your efforts truly are.

Scarred, bruised, starving, dry heaves, dirty, passed out on the floor.

Was this really the life I envisioned for myself?

Make It Stop.

Once you begin to think about it, ponder it, consider it, it seems like it will never go away.

Will this thought remain sitting, sulking in my mind for all of eternity?

This horrible yet dangerously alluring idea.

These images run through my mind daily.

These feelings leave me gasping for air.

These voices refuse to leave me alone.

How can I possibly ignore what they are telling me?

Would you ignore them?

Is there such thing as an eternal escape?

Or must we wander blindly forever?