Tuesday, April 1, 2014

portrait of myself

'the blood is so realistic'
'the whites of his eyes are so white, as if a pill crushed'
'the blues painted with his soul'

cut up and used every part of my being
crushed and maimed and destroyed
put back together into something tragically beautiful

what the fuck did i just pick up??
a piece of my body falling apart?
it reminds me of the texture when i was being hurt

goo oozing out of my soul
my eyes are empty and hollow
as are the bones that i wish would break

im 12 floors up and i can jump out of this window
open the levers and push and jump
but its too easy

how can i be so perverse for a hopeless romantic?
sans romance
im a hopeless pervert

sexually repressed and emotionally regressed
back to when i was hurting and hurt
myself and drank it away

swallow the pain that you caused and cause
and effect those around you with your pitiful suicide notes
in class you think everyone hates you but youre wrong

fucking programmed for failure
since the age of 3
why did i want to go to the closet in the first place?

that hollow fucking stare
that hollow fucking mixture
the hollow fucking act of desecration

and all these fucking thoughts racing around in my head
cant pierce the veil of how much i want you to be back here
distance is a terrible fiend

No comments:

Post a Comment