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Here Comes The Pressure.I'm here, my breathing coming out in gasps.
I can feel the weight of a blade in my palms,
the light, feather light, heaviness.
Silence settles in.
"I can't stop myself," I whisper in the dark.
The pain is too much to bear.
I want to be covered in a pool of my own blood.
I'm swimming in dizzyness,
rushing through nothing.
A blissfull state of physical pain and mental anguish gone.
I can see myself putting the blade to skin,
dragging it fast and sharp and hard and to the point,
because I need the blood to flow.
Not spots like a tiny cat scratch,
a full on gush-down-your-arm-dripp-into-a-puddle-on-the-floor slice.
Slice me open.
There is a reason I say that,
I want to slice myself apart,
rip myself to shreds.
So I won't have to face myself any longer.
I know I can't,
I made a promise,
but what does that promise even matter if you're just going to beat me down for it in the end?
Right or wrong?
pain, or silencing peace?
I choose to show my scars for what they are now.
My battle wounds,
In The MirrorMy reflection stares back at me, no not my reflection
The monster is the one in the mirror.
He knows my fears.
He shows me my shadow, the one no one else sees.
The one weighed down by heaviness.
If I could just lose those 40 pounds
I hate myself.
Look at the monster, do you see the blood trickling down my arms?
I know I need to make it happen.
I try to turn away but I keep searching.
staring at the negative.
I need this to all go away.
I can't be alone right now.I don't trust myself.
can't trust myself.
I know what will happen.
I'll end up on the floor.
I shake, violently shake.
I can't let it happen.
I'll end up on the floor.
all my mistakes.
It's like throwing bricks at my head.
I'll end up on the floor.
If I keep thinking this way, I'll rot.
Flesh oozing off my bones.
Blood freeing from my body.
I'll end up on the floor.
on the floor.
razor blade in hand.
I've ended on the floor.
Novocaine.Spinning, the lights flashing around my head,
The dizziness hits.
I start to feel faint.
The rain drizzles hard.
Soaking up my sadness.
I tire of the same thoughts
Slinking through me.
The same poison drifting in my veins.
The loss of feeling takes over.
I am numb.
Double LifeThese lonely summer nights are impossible to bear.
The heat wraps itself around my sticky skin,
While I can barely breath and the bugs began to bite
She heads off the front steps;
A mess of corn colored curls
Tangled with shining platinum
Explaining incompetent excuses
For where she's off to again.
It's clear she needs a drink.
Another companion by her side tonight.
Headlights reflect from my eyes,
Slowly fading to dark, leaving only the moon and crickets for comfort.
Just You Now.Sway slowly in night blood,
The time when my secrets overwhelm.
All I fear, Is that of which I do not know.
I've been taken hostage by these silent nights.
I'm cold and dreadfully alone;
I slip away from my silver friend, long enough
To finally find peace.
Leave you all behind,
Now you're left in nothing
But my past memories and deeply scarred tissue.
seeking redemptionMirrored silence.
Taking over this need to be free.
I'm counting the seconds in this timeless space.
Knowing I have every second to lose.
I just don't see the point in caring anymore.
I know that life is worth living.
And death is worth fighting against.
But weariness takes me over; all I can see is the thoughts that provoke me.
Sickening dizzy spells.
Blinding temptation to go back to old habits.
To feel numb.
Less alive, However more so than ive ever felt.
How can it be that the only pain I feel is what I cause myself.
The past is the past, yet I still feel the need,
The want, to unbury it.
Dwell in the loneliness
And bask in the moonlight of pain that was with me.
I will be stronger than I have been in years
Letting go of the tough thoughts in my padlocked mind.
I will slowly forget, even if it kills cells.
And I will be unbound and broken loose from my own tattered halo.
stoplight remedies.Blurs of green slip past my view.
Cherry waves play in my ear, hearing the echo of you, you, and you.
Uncontrolled thoughts leak through my brain.
I'm debating to say them, debating the pain.
Keep it, bottled locked deep inside;
Release them and have to re-hide.
Stinging invisible marks claw to the surface
They must be tears springing to service.
I want a taste of your lithium nights,
however misfortune tarnishes the betrayal of our fights.
We're both trying to end our lives.
sweetly bitter satisfactionI'm here, to stay
Breaking my own heart with each pant.
To be hurt?
To be loved?
Again and again; and on and on.
Complications calculating the amount of time I have left.
Sickened with life, sickened with death.
Kicking myself as I'm already down.
I want to reach for your hand,
Grab hold, never let go.
But my mind stops, leaving is not an option,
Staying is neither a choice.
Is not needed.
For I might only
End up tearing me apart.
It's as if I'm only here for utter loneliness,
And the need to help take me over,
The need for your love, takes me over.
Giving everything is all I try.
I don't have anything left to give though.
Confrontation scares me to fall silent inside of myself.
Say the right words, and bring a smile to my face
As you look deep in.
Change this lifeHiding in the shadows
Resisting in secrecy
Trying to find a way
To change this life of misery
The future is unknown
The past is to forget
The present is dull and boring
Is this what life has to offer?
I want to change
And I keep trying
Only to fail miserabily
Every single time
eight ways you've made me small1. I wish
this was for you.
2. my journal pages - the
brown one with all our monologues -
were jarred with hollow vows of
last poems of
letting you slip into a coma
of bad memories, watching you
fall to your death off
a cascading cliff of disease
and dis ease.
it was never
easy for me
3. there's a reason I ask
whether you're grey
(dark white, elusively black, in between)
or blue (behind the clouds, under wave-foam,
whateverthefuck runs through the back of my
palms); I'd rather have
than the arms
that once held you half-
heartedly. you had always been
my harmony and I
would have killed
to have been yours.
4. it could never have been just me, the way
it could never have been just
5. disasters are not beautiful,
but how is it that you
managed to make my inner linings
converge into bows
and explode into wings the very
night you decided to rebuild your walls
to a lower height?
6. I wish
when i stimulated the prayers of rib-beat
when i licked the temple of my teeth,
speed pushed my fingers shaped like confessionals
clasped holy, carved my throat to fixing-
lover; i did this for the anthem of your eyes,
the feel of strangled feet crushing the fame of stars
for the glow of streetlight worship, for the moons
of your crooning throat, for the halls of your arms,
the strayed revels of your arms,
lover: you manufactured a god out of the drugs i used
and had me addicted to the divine, to the dignity of music
you pressed in my direction: just what i am, hallelujah,
marijuana, day and night-
lover, i fell in love with your culture
that preached the real definition of dusked kneecaps,
the plea of closeted throats, the whisper of bless,
unlearning how to say please god in borrowed tongue,
i fell in love with your attention, nervous grace
lover. i levied the rubble of my sins
Even The City KnowsIs it at all easy?
Being by yourself, I mean.
Sitting in a car, on a train, on a bus--wherever you might be now, isn't it hard to be a drifter?
There are no men with newspapers, no women with strollers, no love-crazy teenagers, no annoying toddlers, no anybody.
You stare out the window, like there are people out there, calling your name. The trees are out there, and they've lost all their leaves, all their buds--they've lost everything, just like you.
The sky is out there, and it's gray and colorless, just like you.
The stars are out there, and they're so blown-out-of-proportion, and they're just like you, too.
But the trees, the skies, the stars, they're used to being left alone.
You lack the ebullience of your drink, but it, too, is fading.
Frost has gathered on windows, on the ground, on rivers, everywhere.
Frost comes and goes, just like you, when you finally melt away.
The city draws to darkness and quiet--it disappears, just like you.
But, even frost
on bradbury and table dancingYou are not a wordsmith
whatever you might like to think. ('Smith'
indicates precision and coldness and fire:
words are softer than that unless you mold them strong.)
It's a difficult road to follow, and not many
make it past the fork. Choose a path,
Janus says, whirligig keys spinning on his shoulders:
I am a wordworker, with my tools too crude, forming
rough-edged carvings painted with pretty imagery.
Notebooks scattered across the landscape
of a child's room, to be stumbled across,
read, red-penned, in the thick and choking breath of night.
When the bough breaks
a hanged man laughs. He carries typewriters
in his pockets, and cigarettes in the soles of his shoes.
I will never be a word mistress,
whoring myself to the speech of people I do not know and will never know me.
The oven is set to Fahrenheit 452, but the words were already aflame
before they ever took shape under your tongue.
You love everything they've ever written, and carry
unabashed loathing for every syllabl
Whenever I hurt myselfI have a feeling
Someone is watching
So I look around
But there's no one to be found
A lifeA life
Synesthesia - III have learned not to say
when your voice burns under my tongue -
learned not to shiver
at the cold of sirens on the street -
learned not to describe
the pricks and strokes and touches.
I have learned that skin cannot hear,
nor ears feel
(whichever it is).
How strange to think:
I may travel all my life
and never find a lover who can hold my laugh in his palms.
Death to the LoversHe screamed,
He tore his hair from his scalp;
But it didn't bring her back.
The beautiful girl
With the gorgeous smile
And witty remarks
Would always lay six feet under.
She would lie in her death bed,
Her arms folded on her chest
And her face full of peace
Known only to the dead.
He would be the first to rot.
First his health,
Then his sanity.
She would forever feed on his emotions
Like a pretty little leech,
Sapping his well being
And happiness from her underground world.
And he would let her,
For a fool like him
Who allowed himself to love,
close to relapseThe colors fly by,
High and low.
Seeking you out.
You need to avoid the serpents,
Wrapped in bright yellows,
Enticing blurs of beauty zip past,
Destroying free will.
The call of a good time chimes up.
It seems as if the wolves in sheepskin
Will always find you,
no matter where you chose
To conceal yourself.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More