Empty like the chair that Sat in the corner, I’m collecting dust like your shelf with books once uses but torn pages and musty cotton smells. I cared and then I was too worn thing that my cover displayed more than my insides. I tried to push through the plastic and show you that there was still life amongst my page. Once a page Turner, now a ripped fantasy. I’m neutral. I cared for one second, ran for two and jumped for three. I lied and like a cat and mouse, you were the prey. I tried to stop it. Maybe you were the learning I needed

Educated but broken, I kept going and although I saw I was poison I tried to infect you so you’d know how I got torn apart by machines that I didn’t know existed. You deserve amazing things, I couldn’t stop being horrible. I didn’t care as much as I wanted to. Run to the rivers and you’ll see me when you pass by because I am like them, rushing and even still, I roam. I hope you find a way to place your love unto what you need

I am raging, and you know I already had a fuel from birth, maybe the devil kissed my thighs and the doctors didnt flinch

“hey little child, why should you get away with such innocence? you arent allowed to roam the world with a cape of gold and a heart full of good ”

so out i came, such a good baby i was, wasn’t tainted though until i got older, i realized that reality pinched me right to the core befor ei even knew what real was

 

death ridden innocence

not sure when exactly i felt the innocence seeping from within
but i knew something was off
why did i think he was better off not speaking to me
when all i wanted to do was rip his head off and throw him to the lions

i would sit there enraged and he got away scott free, i was too young to know what being charged meant
but he deserved something close to execution
but in my head he had already died

cold like the winter’s brisk lips
i watched him fall into another life and soon iw as just another conquest
and who knows hopefully i was his only victum

sometimes it eats at me
and i want to cry and spill myself into his cup like poison and watch him die
a slow painful escape

i just want him to feel what i did, and do and have his self worth ripped from him without any word or say
i still wish hell on him

so im still stuck in my inner child, i’m not okay, my little self was never okay. just numb to the core
so numb, so broken
im abroken adult with a sad heart
searching, searching so far

Lucid Steps

Lucid, but somehow still dazed
Not really confused, just shocked that
You couldn’t stop the feeling of being out of control

Spiraling, something just attacks you mentally and works it’s way through to your mind
Thoughts will race as your body shakes

Am I really here?
You ask yourself as you sit listening to music that makes you disappear
But you can’t turn it off, don’t want to
Feel anything other than the inner desire to run wild

I’m not falling because the ground never even existed
And I’m not walking until I slip back into a state of mind where floating is no longer an option

Writhering Putrid

Not so long ago, but far away                                                                                                               now I talked to a stranger and                                                                                                                  by default I overshared                                                                                                                            tested and prodded them

Out and about, honest after a while                                                                                                       but something felt off, like                                                                                                                        I wasn’t just the abuser anymore                                                                                                    having my words publicly exploited for                                                                                          someone’s personal gain

I was made to feel like I was                                                                                                                 the grim reaper of conflict and dirt                                                                                                      and all I wanted was to writher close

I had never been so low once I sunk                                                                                                    taking a plunge deeper than I ever had imagined                                                                            Things didn’t just spiral but they                                                                                                          hurled at me like a cloud being weighed down

Learnt to accept my fate with the dark                                                                                                 as my companion filled with pure disgust                                                                                           or so that’s what I was made to feel

And I’m trying to let people in but I held on so hard and for so long and I broke more than I had ever been broken before. Years later and I still am haunted by the very act of my own wrongs and the torment I was put through to never be left forgotten of it.

Maybe I really was to blame and I can’t keep using that as an excuse, but I crave what people give me, and when I get it I can only handle it for so long until I literally become a wall itself and I become like a hay stack amongst a maze. Only this maze’s entrances and turns change everytime you take a walk through it.

I swear I’m good for love, I swear I’m trying to love people and to love myself, but I’ve been packing my bags for so long that the bags became me and the road stopped being paved.

I’m sorry I’ve let you down, that I’ve lead you down a narrow path with dark intentions lit with such a small torch, dimming out the more we crawl.

If you have to leave, who am I to stop you when I basically left you with no choice?

Who am I to wreak more havic even when I am being honest and heartfelt. How can I expect people to understand me when I can’t even stay in a good place no matter what I do.

I can only express my true self in writing now. It’s easier because I don’t have to hear my disgusting breath escape from my esophagus.

I’m sorry I’ve made you feel how I feel when you were the angel I’ve been needing, but I threw my devilish side at you. And it wasn’t all just games, there’s some truth. I force things to stay sometimes because I know it’s what I want, but my mind tells me to spit out putrid things and my heart cries and hides behind a shield of forestry.

 

Bolted Traps

I am a ghost in my own body and my skin are the sheets I hide behind
I am a prisoner of my mind and my skull is the only thing holding it together

My body keeps transferring data to the wrong parts of my brain
My brain is moldable, but at times shattering like a window without a pane

Slip and slide like a bouncing pit
Off the walls, tracks worn thin
Splashing loud, messy space

I’m afraid I’m slipping, giving into the taste of pure insanity
And I thought I was okay

I am the human equivalent of a roller coaster, no harness, but scared of being bolted in
I’d rather fall than stay together

Turmoil High

Sometimes you have to be willing to open the gate to your heart’s hurtful parts and close the door to anything good for a while to really get a taste of reality at its entirety.

My mind is a mess. This place is too familiar. This place brings both the worst and the most creative parts of Me. I believe that fucked up people are usually the most fucked up. I’m attracted to the fucked up, the people who give into their demons, who pride themselves on their worst parts.

What’s in the air here? It’s amazing how you can drive to places and not see things and then walk those same trails and feel everything.

I’m swinging and all of a sudden my thoughts are heavy and my mind is on a high like I just took a pound of cocaine, without the buzzing and the faint breathing and crash.

Triggers inflate and sorrows swallow me close into turmoil, racing too fast to stop it, desire to win is behind. My mind walks further than my body.

I’m travelling for free without the turbulence and babies crying in my ears, but I’m at home with my heart screaming with walls of temptations

I’m slaying new destinations meanwhile living in constant construction.