My poetry isn't to please any of you fuckers. It's a venting for my feelings. |
Oops. It seems the blade slipped My skin did tear, and flesh did rip I sat on the kitchen tile, bleeding yet again Wondering when will this life end? When will I feel no pain. I sigh, and let out a wimper A cry of agony and sorrow Begging to feel no more tomorrow The thought of being put in a casket below Seemed to be the only thing I wanted to know But silly little things are keeping me alive These silly things that are trying to thrive! I don't want to live I just want to die I want to fall into a fire No more need to cry To burn in a flame To feel my flesh decay and rot To be an inevitable memory everyone forgot I just want to hang, from my roof of my room So that the dark can over-come me, devour and consume And not even my genocidic Butterfly has a say in this ordeal For the end of my life will be tastier than the most delicious meal Foaming out the mouth from a capped bottle of pills Oh the dear thought of it gives me the thrills But the only thing that holds me back is a promise I once made And to break that promise I endure a pain worse than any, I'm afraid I'M IN FUCKING AGONY each and every day! I want all the pain to end, to stop suffering to go away But because of this promise I made I cannot die I resort to a blade to my legs, my thighs, my arms, my ribs And I fall in my blood, in tears. I CRY. I plead for it all to end naturally though that involves waiting And so I sit and ponder, wonder, contemplating Whilst I sit hear typing this poem out for you fuckers to review I smile, I grin, I spit at each and everyone of you You see yourselves? I don't know, nor want to know any of you I'd rather know you suffer a death like a concentration camp jew I feel sorry for each of you whom can't relate nor understand Understand any of the words I'm saying athand Because it just goes to show your ignorance and immaturity But knowing you're as stupid as everyone else brings me clarity. Still, I sit with a blood covered razor Letting it slide against my flesh, doing me a favor My fingerprints stain the handle with blood on hilt And I wimper, I cry, but laugh as the blood is spilt I cry like a maniac because I want to feel no more But all I can do is suffer under the stupidity of a whore In a world of hypocrites, liars and fakes Whom of which I'd drown in cyanide filled lakes But that's just a fantasy, a figment of my mind.. When will it end? I cut myself the past month and more I cut myself tonight I cut myself in plead I don't have to fight But that's all life is so take flight Take flight of your blades and land them on your skin Slice till bloody hell is loosened over your body And stain it in the flesh The stench metallic fresh I lust for the taste of someone elses agony I want to know they suffer I want to know they're in pain I want them to feel like they should be 6 feet under. So much I hate in this world Including my shitty self Thrown apart and put on a shelf I feel nothing aside from being depressed. I cut myself tonight. Cause I'm fed up with this fight. I beg for it all to end. My coffin to be my only friend. - EmotionallyTorn. So tonight, I've been in a pretty bad state is all I can say. If you can relate to this, I respect you entirely. If not. Don't have give sympathy, just fuck off. |