lilypanda145

My own designs, etched into my skin forever. 
Like a tree with names carved into its bark, to remain forever. 
Never planned, but from anger; 
from hatred, 
from sickness. 
Call me emo, disturbed, loony, crazy, 
But coming from you, it means nothing.

i lock myself up and i have a knife 
i cut my wrist i feel the pain and let 
it in i enjoy that pain and to feel the warm blood 
trickle down gives me the chills that i love 
the pain as the blade pierces my skin feels 
reveling and i stay locked up i hide the truth 
from my family they'll never know for they don't 
want to

the mangled bodies lie beneath me, 
as i watch her face from with a distance, 
she's my bride of death 
the only soul i bleed. 
i bite her flesh, but its decaying in my mouth, 
i feel the maggots hit my tongue, 
i see them falling out of her flesh 
she's all that i want, 
my dead love, 
teasing me with all that could fall, 
she'll fade away with time, 
but i'll find another. 
so cold as i place my fingers on her skin 
like a porcelain doll 
she looks as if she's in a deep sleep.   
her beauty untouched of the years of ageing 
she entices me, i will not find another like this. 
Not of this beauty, not of this feel... 
She's my dead love, my only love, 
she agreed to be mine even in death

i hugged a stranger 
during a street carnival 
because a man with eyes like the moon 
told me it was destiny 
he gave me a pebble of hope 
which i stuck down my throat 
and prayed for it to at least 
taste good 
because destiny so far has only 
ruined it for me 

my body aches from 
hours and 
days and hoursminutesdayshoursminutesdays of 
secret whiskey 
and pounding music 
to numb it all 
to numb it all 
and i will pretend i hate it all 
when i wake up 
when really 
i hate being at a point when 
life pivots back to planning my next stumble 

i will pretend i hate long nights forgetting who i am 
and wonder how the cigarette burn on my wrist got there 

i am aching from 
clenched muscles, curled in and 
shuddering in my sleep 
tight-roped 
tight-skinned 
tight-minded 
i am exploding 

i am clawing away from the hurricane that drove through 
the middle of my chest 
and i pray to an empty sky 
like there is somebody there 
to save me

I got words to write day and night 
Just to find that inner light 
You call it word play 
Between the grey 

As I close my eyes 
I realize 
It's a gift and I must use it 
It would be a tragedy to stop and lose it 

It is therapy 
It is ecstasy 
Released from my soul and mind 
The real me with in the context you will find 

As my heart is revealed upon every page 
Every emotion every tear and every ounce of rage 
Is it a calling? I'm not sure 
When I write everything is genuine and pure 

This needs to be said 
The escape from my head 
To quiet all the noise that shall reside 
As I hide 

This is the best way to know me 
Through every page and every line I feel free as could be 
The only time I really visit reality 
Once I leave this desk and this computer I return to the land of fantasy 

There's a cold dark corner 
in the back of my room, 
it speaks to me 
and says I'm coming for you. 

As I lie on my bed 
in the fetal position, 
my eyes are closed 
hoping and wishing. 

Maybe that one day 
my dreams will come true, 
that I don't have to be here 
so down and blue. 

The corner keeps talking 
about how I'm going to die, 
all I can do 
is lie there and cry. 

As the corner gets closer 
and takes me in, 
my soul starts to burn 
as so does my skin. 

My bones shall lie there 
turning to dust, 
my bed surrounding 
nothing but rust.