Hurt, though not shown, a piece of my soul is gone. Yesterday was so real; Everything there to imbrace: love, hate, break, and steal.
Just another false reality to live: a place; a time that will not rest upon the charred remains of a hope for tommorow.
"Pick, Pick, little bird! Peck your bread! Rip it from my bloddy carcass, dig in on your feast! Make it sting, make it bleed!"
-I scream these painful cries at the "Raven" raping at my soul (yes I know it's a bit of a Poe rip off, but it somehow fit in nicely); the soul of me, the soul of I.
He eats away at the layers which incompace my secrets. One by one my brain; it's cells, are plucked away. I've become retarded; I know not what to do. The bird is but a remnant; something my eyes do not reconize. It is a mockery; of me! That's it! It is but a mockery; of me; which I, myself, apply! Everyone else just sees what I play, reads what I write, and repeats what I say. They have, upon them, the self-image I give them; the one I despise. If only I knew myself, then they would see my true-self. Not just some poor pathetic image I project into their sun-glazed eyes.
"You beastly whore!... let me rest! Thou shall not force the burden upon my chest... Rip this pain from my breasts!... I am a freak, I am, your nest. I am the body, the mind, the soul, in which you fuck!"
-I weep down on knees of weakness. No acceptance, no resistance, no understanding, no cares, no worries, no love; only pain, only change.
I cannot change, and yet there is a pain. (You would think there would be no pain if there really is no change). Not just a pain but pains...
"My soul yearns to expand. My true inner-most feelings, and building blocks crumble soon after reestablishment. My mind seeks to grow on the intakings of everything."
"Destroyer!" - you snare and growl - "Stop you beast, you heartless beastly stalker!"
"Let I be me, and my I go on free."
Breakdown - the story of my life
Hatesound - the feelings I hide inside
Destroyed - the remains of a pathetic lie
Broken - everything this world defines.
Force fed all these morals and values since the day of birth. Hate it all, Hate this world.
Why'd I believe the shit you taught me?
Why'd I eat the load you bought me?
Why'd I give in to your desires?
Why'd I let you build my empire?
Breakdown - the story of my life
Hatesound - the feelings I hide inside
Destroyed - the remains of a pathetic lie
Broken - everything this world defines
My mind deceieves everything that I see.
I can't believe I listend to the bullshit you bestowed in me. I have you! I hate me!
I have everyone and everything!
I am nothing!
Breakdown - the story of my life
Hatesound - the feelings I hide inside
Destroyed - the remains of a pathetic lie
Broken - everything this world defines
You and I - as far as can be - are nothing...
Just flowers blowing in the wind - wild and free...
No harm can come - until now all battles have thought to be won.
We were weak - We lost - Who cares?
I don't
Don't want to die - Don't want to cry...
My flower has welted - it was a lie...
It never lived in this world, only in my fabricating mind.
If Jesus was meant to save everyone-
then why do I still fall?
His grace is something I cannot find.
Grace is Lust
Lust is Pain
Pain is Hate
Hate is Love
Love is Dead
In all this I miss God.
All elements start to fade away with age.
Mine started in early
Soon I fear; very soon -
I will have lost them all.
Gunshots of adulthood
-burnt Jesus and life,
ends all.
Lost direction
-the pains from the blast
all is closing in;
it must never last
"Life sucks in everything it sees;
-Lies upon a window;
-Animals inflicted with disease."
Welcome to my tree,
where the leaves are distraught,
and the fruits always rot.
A place to go to escape vanity,
in a void filled with false insanity.
Holes filled with leeches,
sucking away all life sources,
molded bark and bloody roots.
Pale - in life that once was.
Dull - in thoughts of mistreatment.
Cracked - in the winds of violence.
Bowed - in "Treehouse Troubles"
Worthless Lies!
Everything!
I've lived a dream!
Not a reality!
Fuck life!... this one at least.
Full of shit,
Full of spoiled dreams!
I fall apart and die....
Slowly I become a miserable martyr.
In the eyes of begotten sorrow.
-Scared dismay.
I almost hate this place....
- this plaque
- this phase
...As much as I can never love you.
All my life I've been this outcast, never really alive, everything that I stand for is nothing in this world's eyes. Lack of sanity and care are things my soul thrives to find, deep down they're there, but hidden from most of mankind, eventually I'll lose them leaving me far behind.
I've never really been popular, the cool kid I am not indeed. No one to rely on, no brothers or sisters, mom and dad don't understand enough to give me what I need. I've never amounted to anything, nothing I do matters. All my friends are enemies except for maybe a few. All this may change, if only I really understood and loved myself as much as I want to.