Nothing like depressed emo poetry to liven your day. 
Please (please) don't steal these~~ I want to publish these in a couple years, so....
These all came from UGH, one of the rps that died on me. Think of the guy on the left writing/saying these.
And we'll fall asleep
in the arms of Pain,
wanting to know the truth
behind the sad smiles
and fond farewells:
those that leave us wondering
if there is a Truth,
Or if our dreams are the only
reality.
The dreams of the past are not
who we really are.
Have we changed that much?
These lives, these desires!
Take from me what you need,
feed from my life if you need!
But be only with me, rest within my soul.
Don't fall away.
You,
You are like the Baroness to Beethoven.
*2 AM Insomniac*
Don't fall away.
I meditate on those words, the last.
It's hard to believe in Truth
when there's nothing to make sense.
Don't fall away.
to me, was it?
An artistic musing, it's all.
To give me so much,
give me so little!
I claw at the walls, hoping to find
something -- anything
that will mend my heart.
I am falling, falling apart
And there is nothing to stop me
But those three words.
You are a sign, you are a dream.
Aren't we all?
The life that strikes my soul,
the Death that envelopes my heart,
Is it all in vain?
You do not answer.
Don't fall away.
*Auditorium*
Preoccupy yourself.
with anything you can.
Don't look through the mirror
at yourself.
It's useless, don't you know?
Foolish child,
You believe in people.
They'll only hurt you in the end.
Do not forget
the truth in the past --
the horrid emotions of pain
and suffering:
the hot blood that flows through your hands,
imbuing your vision with hatred and lust,
it is all for a reason.
Free your wounded eyes from the tears
brought on by Love's fateless reasoning.
There is nothing left for you.
Don't try to dream.
My Ophelia,
do not cry for me.
I shall take vengeance
whether you know or not.
So dream of me,
wish for me,
make your life clean of me
As I am sane:
a hawk to a handsaw,
you are beautiful.
Do not worry
of what else may come
Leave your flowers,
rest within my heart.
Do not listen to courtiers,
only the prince.
For you are more than
what they think.
Your life be anew
within the light of love.
And the songstress is still singing.
Her voice is growing harsh,
and the light is starting to fade.
I will look for you,
among the blades of grass
and blood,
reach out for your hand
that comes through from the flowers.
And I will sleep on that square
foot of soil,
damp and warm,
like the fire from Hell
that burns against my face
even now.
the tears that well up
will baptize me.
You have already given me
a bible to hold on to,
my savior.
Arsenal of dreams
And I dream of you again.
you chase me, and I run.
the last dream to fight against.
Why fight? I always ask at the break of
Dawn.
I can never stop the fight.
I can never turn around.
I can never complete the dream
with a soft kiss
that was meant to be.
I know my fears.
I know my wishes.
I know everything that makes me
who I will be.
But who am I now?
The visions come to me at full force --
they are deluded hallucinations --
an army of reminders of the past.
And I cannot escape.
I run, full force.
and you follow.
And I will fool you all.
In this light,
at this time,
can you really tell the real me?
I am living masked,
"man with a reason"
I smile knowingly, and you
think that I am happy.
How foolish.
you really think
that you know me.
There is no one just like me,
no one who has the same emotions,
the same thoughts.
We are all different,
but there are dopplegangers.
Mine.... mine is dead.
Strangled with the sinews
that hang from the vaulted ceilings
of my dreams.
And the breath catches in your throat
as I fall off the edge of reality.
A normal high,
a normal ecstacy of reality.
It's all the same, isn't it?
Ah, let me go.
The blue that envelopes my hopes,
my dreams.
Do not begin to explain
to me
the exact nature of self.
For what is truth?
Who is your true self?
You are a mystery to me,
as I to you.
Do not try to understand
Only try to reverberate
with the Lifestream
that flows through every one of us.
That flows constantly,
eddying and twisting
in its course through time.
Be still,
my beating heart.
Oh, by a soul's whisper,
I beg.
The last breath, I wish,
Be but sweet upon my lips.
Do not confiscate my life
until that.
Be still,
my aching heart.
Let the blood
drip,
as if from the knife,
from my quivering
spirit,
clean and fresh
the wound.
The last breath, I wish,
Be but silent in the night,
let it go,
as if natural.
For I am only
a shell of a man.
uneven footsteps
outside my door
red Leaves
against white Satin
a knock...
my glazed Eyes
see not.
for I...
I am Not.
And I feel the emptiness inside again
it's so close, so perfectly sewn up.
let me be, let me be sad, lonely, forgotten.
for I know that you don't care
none of you do.
as I spiral down,
closer and closer into my
own hell,
you laugh, you smile,
you dance upon
the freshly turned earth
that will soon be my gravesite.
and yet, when a smile and a wave
will mask everything on the inside,
what is the use of pretending?
There is nothing any more
that can change the way I feel.
no, no perfectly timed words,
no soft emotions,
no law or precedent that can stop
my bold hands from acting.
This will be a milemarker of where you are
This will be a gift from heaven to the earth
This will be a warning to the foolish mortals
And yet, if it does happen,
will anyone heed?
No,
I don't believe so.
everything will be normal
since the anomaly will be sacrificed
for what the sad reality wants.
Razor sharp.
Just like the ritualistic
burnings of memory.
I purge. I purge to clean.
Clean myself of the destructive
nature of these times.
We all have to, don't we?
Some will use an easier route,
hoping that life will be perfect.
And yet, there is still nothing
Except the drowsy, enchanting quaver
of the Red truth.
Give what you need.
It's the only way of knowing --
is there really a way to know?
I cannot trust the life that I live.
it's all the same, anyway, isn't it?
Life.
So frail.
My heart bursts with love,
its beats filled with passion
for life!
but no, it's not so.
I can't love.
for I know nothing.
What is there to know
but love? How to know love?
I will purge my life
of these feelings,
return to ordinary.
For there is nothing left
for me.
There is nothing left for me
The glass weights
about my heart
pull me down,
the blood filling
into the recesses
And everything is red,
bathed in the liquid of life
that drains from each
gunshot wound
Lie down, let them soak
into your skin.
I've let go of everything.
everything that matters...
It's strange how I don't let go of myself
totally
So....I don't matter?
I guess not.
The pain, the longing,
all balled into one final
burst of light and sound.
I say goodbye.
And I don't think you care
But does it matter to me?
I don't know.
The pounding in my head reverberates
with the Romantic splutterings of my heart
and I can see with these lenses on.
I find that sad, don't you?
To be so close,
only a capital away,
from the sweet rememberances --
the sweet dreams
of foolish youth.
But alack, I say you don't care
and halfway through the thought--
is it that I realize
that I don't care?
Quite.
I will meet you
On the whisper of a dream
Halfway around
Meet me there
I'll be waiting
Just for you
Just for that sweet light
that you are
That light
that reaffirmation
of life
Red imbued life.
The soft blush of winter
leaves nothing
when it mirrors death
Soft, softly death mingles
in the daft self.
So let us meet,
in that bluish perfection of life.
that bluish re-enactment of death,
That sustainer of beauty,
that giver of pain.
And let us watch the shadows dance--
merrily, ghastly.
I will sink my hands into my mother's womb,
tear out the soil and flowers.
Abort not the happiness that once was me,
but abort the life-long dreams of you.
Abort the memory of soft linen in springtime,
hair and cloth measured by the warm winds of fate.
Too short, too long.
Too soft, too harsh.
Too beautiful the fate that was dreamed!
Oh, love. Be but only that.
A memorial stain upon perfect hangings of my
soul.
