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- Joined: 28 February 2013
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It is currently Sat Apr 29, 2017 11:15 pm
We are all born as slaves, forced to work day by day,
Like the ant that travels the stalk, holding his day's pay,
Forced to comply with the desires of others,
Sisters, brothers, fathers, mothers, we all die one way or another.
So what is the goal, of this game called life?
...If all you do is work until you die?
Told from birth you have 2 decisions, wrong or right,
There is no 'in the middle' you play it black or white,
I guess in the end, the goal is your own desires,
The question is, will you fall or keep climbing higher?
Overwhelming feelings I keep inside.
Things I fail to talk about, but things I fail to hide.
These feelings of utter despair and pain well up inside of me.
And it’s almost as if I’m dying in the slowest way.
I wake up every morning, and everything hurts.
It hurts to crawl.
It hurts to walk.
It hurts to breathe.
It hurts to live.
On these cold almost winter mornings,
All I think about is ending it all.
I walk on, lost in a myriad of thoughts.
It will come to an end, because it was never to be.
The black metal dragged along the snow along with my feet.
Lines and footprints in the snow disappearing, as I trudge onwards.
Snow covering my tracks, and the trail of the object in my hands.
I’ve never felt as if I belonged in this world.
Like those footprints and lines, I am ephemeral.
But far in to the forest, far in to the deep, I plan on longevity.
And as I grab the shotgun and press it against my head.
My hands are shaky and I start to cry.
Frost falling on the tip of the gun,
Icicle droplets form at the barrel.
And in one moment of clarity, one moment of absolution
I pulled that trigger.
Pure white ice and snow, stained crimson.
Imbrued with the blood of someone who didn’t belong here.
Someone who belonged to no one and nowhere.
An intruder whose warm blood is melting the snow,
Maroon life, sinking in to the soil and setting in.
Everything is loud and silent all at once.
I’m breathing easy for once.
My heart beat is slowing,
I can feel time slipping away from my fingertips,
Even as my fingers slip away from the trigger, loosening.
And everything is peaceful.
Everything is perfect, as I become anything else but me.
It’s all I have left to offer.
Once when I fell asleep, I died.
My heart stopped, my breathing hitched, the clock froze, and I drifted off.
Lost in 4 AM forever, I was born again as snow.
Light posts and street signs pass by as I float on by.
Compared to the rest of the world I felt so small.
A white pure speck floating downwards, in a rapid free fall,
I was scared to death of falling.
Until the cold concrete embraced me and there was nothing left to fear.
Melting in to the concrete I felt relaxed.
As the concrete and I kissed for the very first time,
We watched as the other specks of snow moved,
They were dancing to silent music in a beautiful last waltz.
Flurries of white over take my vision.
All I can focus on is your touch.
As I let your cold fingers warm me, I fall asleep again.
When I awoke I came alive,
I found you lying by my side.
I touched your cheek to find warmth and softness.
Reality is so much better than my dreams,
Because I have you next to me…
I’m the girl with the chameleon frown.
The icy eyes that no one bothers to melt.
The girl with the heart that beats too fast.
And the girl who always finishes last.
No one notices me.
They say they do but no one sees the right image.
I’m trying to fit in, I’m trying to be like them.
Trying to mold my smile with the help of the mirror.
No one sees the mirage.
No matter how much I shift and shape,
I am a piece of the puzzle manufactured wrong.
And I stare at my veins wondering how long.
I want to pick up a razor and slash it through my wrists.
I want to grab someone and pound them with my fucking fists.
I want a riot and I want an absolution to this madness that will never stop.
Everyone asks if I’m okay.
And if I answered truthfully they’d back away.
Cause all I really want to do is stab them in the neck.
When you ask me these questions I feel fucking sick.
Because I think I’m okay and then I question that very notion and realize that I’m not.
If given the choice, I’d make myself concrete shoes and dive in to the ocean.
Letting the water overwork and fill my lungs, killing me from the inside just like everyone else.
Cause I’m the girl with the chameleon frown.
Everyone would rather think I’m up instead of down.
Imposing their problems on me until I’m overburdened and falling.
But no one sees, everyone’s blind.
As the reflection in the mirror, clear as crystal falls apart along with me.
All I could taste was the cigarette ash and smoke in my throat.
I have a riddle for you.
What’s eventually fucked and what’s frayed and broken?
My black heart that you smashed to pieces and my love notes.
Because like a cigarette, like a product you are cold.
You well up so much stress and pain inside of me that I want to scream.
Bringing only temporary relief, but infusing the most toxic of toxins in my veins.
So while I stand out in the rain.
Thinking of how fucked up we are.
While you’re in the warmth,
I’m in the freezing cold.
While my stomach churns and folds.
Knowing you’ll never love me the way I love you.
Lately it seems like you don’t love me anyways.
Talking about other girls, paying them more attention than me.
I wrote you something on Valentine’s day.
What did you write me?
Oh what did you get me?
Couldn’t think of anything.
Yet you got the girl you’ve only been paying attention for 3 months something.
It just flashes back to the not so good old days.
High school, when you told me you found girl after girl attractive.
Anger and depression at my core, exploding, and reactive.
The worst part is that you didn’t apologize.
The worst part is that those girls were skinnier.
My self worth going in to a spiral.
Scratching at my wrists, fucking suicidal.
But I died to make it work.
And you just pick away at me like a vulture.
I feed you, you feed off of me, but in the end…
You’re like a parasite, sucking all the blood and life that’s left of me
I don’t need this negative energy.
Too exhausted to deal with the pain.
Do you even do this on purpose?
You do this with so much skill, it’s perfect.
While I whittled away at my own heart and brain,
Trying to make it seem worth it.
And the only reason I can find is that I’m addicted to you.
You’re my repetition of sin.
You bring out the very worst of me, the evil, the malicious, and the depressed agony.
And every time I try to go cold turkey you rope me in again.
Do you even care?
Because you’re just a cold by product of your own dark mind.
And all you care about is the profit you make off my heart.
I have more but these are the ones I have access to atm. I never posted them on the old vigilant because I felt a bit ashamed of my depression.
d o.o b
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