Follow me into hell
Mar. 25th, 2025 05:45 pm
Would you follow me into hell?
Forget about purgatory,
Would you give up heaven to be with me?
Feel this pain,
Burn more than the earth,
exist in these days,
Have my thoughts.
No things with wings to comfort you, nor paper books or plastic necklaces,
If you really love me,
Come down and show me.
It's easy when it's you,
It's easy when it's only a moment or two,
You never have to be the bird in a cage,
It's hardly a prison if you have the key.
Hardly suffering if you get to say when.
Now you can't claim how awful time is,
if you stand outside of it,
If you really love me, come down and show me,
Follow me into hell.
The sun shines,
The flowers grow,
Life moves on,
As I grow old.
The wind hugs the day,
The birds sing away,
But my sorrow stays,
Like the tears; it remains.
And scars to skin,
Breath and pain,
Just living until my own death day.
When cold will embrace me,
no more light to my face,
Nor words of sadness,
Or emptiness in its wake.
When the blood doesn't move,
And the eyes stay in place,
Where my mind sleeps eternally,
And I rest in an infinity.
No need for love,
no need for grace,
just peace in the nothingness, laying in an endless sea of space.
No more hanging my hat,
or me laying shoes by the mat,
no more setting clocks,
or packing lunch.
No more writing,
and no more words,
for when I die, my sorrow will leave this world.

The flowers grow,
Life moves on,
As I grow old.
The wind hugs the day,
The birds sing away,
But my sorrow stays,
Like the tears; it remains.
And scars to skin,
Breath and pain,
Just living until my own death day.
When cold will embrace me,
no more light to my face,
Nor words of sadness,
Or emptiness in its wake.
When the blood doesn't move,
And the eyes stay in place,
Where my mind sleeps eternally,
And I rest in an infinity.
No need for love,
no need for grace,
just peace in the nothingness, laying in an endless sea of space.
No more hanging my hat,
or me laying shoes by the mat,
no more setting clocks,
or packing lunch.
No more writing,
and no more words,
for when I die, my sorrow will leave this world.

When I close my eyes
Mar. 17th, 2025 10:34 pm
When I close my eyes,
It is so dizzying,
It is as if everything disappears,
as if nothing really exists.
Yet I am alone with my bones aching,
My skin burning,
My hunger from loneliness,
My sorrow and my hate.
It is with me,
and in my suffering;
I long for an end,
that I should disappear just like everything else does,
when I close my eyes.
Broken Mirror
Mar. 8th, 2025 04:14 pmI stand in fragments, I am just a broken mirror.
No reflection to be seen,
no longer shining,
just shattered pieces of what I use to be.
There is no self to recognize,
only a mind you wouldn't want to see.
An empty bookshelf,
A blank canvas,
A cup you wouldn't want to drink from; now this is me.
And I am far beyond a head above water,
I exist in a sea, my world is an ocean,
everything is upside down to me,
And I am only happy in the gray; when it is raining.
They say misery loves company,
they never said that I would.
It's easier to love the pain,
and stand in the darkness,
because you forget what the sun does,
It's too difficult to imagine a future,
when all you do is dream about the end.
And what can be said?
That the dark ones love death?
But you know not every story has a happy ending;
If you knew mine
you wouldn't want to be standing there;
It's a double edged sword.
There's no one for the hero to save,
Because the hostage gets use to being captured,
you know not every house is a home,
and pain is the only gift I have here, life's only promise is the certainty of death.

No reflection to be seen,
no longer shining,
just shattered pieces of what I use to be.
There is no self to recognize,
only a mind you wouldn't want to see.
An empty bookshelf,
A blank canvas,
A cup you wouldn't want to drink from; now this is me.
And I am far beyond a head above water,
I exist in a sea, my world is an ocean,
everything is upside down to me,
And I am only happy in the gray; when it is raining.
They say misery loves company,
they never said that I would.
It's easier to love the pain,
and stand in the darkness,
because you forget what the sun does,
It's too difficult to imagine a future,
when all you do is dream about the end.
And what can be said?
That the dark ones love death?
But you know not every story has a happy ending;
If you knew mine
you wouldn't want to be standing there;
It's a double edged sword.
There's no one for the hero to save,
Because the hostage gets use to being captured,
you know not every house is a home,
and pain is the only gift I have here, life's only promise is the certainty of death.


I am a mirror, I show myself to myself, I am the only thing reflected,I am the only thing visible in me, it is but storm clouds of black ink.
Darkness, hate and pain, it's married to my sorrow.
Even my nightmares have nightmares, my eyes no eyes to see, and my ears only hear the twisted sick memories that is now my only reality,
my voice too weak to scream, my hands tied to a fate that I cannot escape.
And I murder myself every night in my thoughts, I am my sickness, I have become the thing I fought against
Death Pulls
Mar. 1st, 2025 10:48 pmMan is pulled to copulation to pass on parts of themselves, ideas, beliefs and wisdoms.
Emotionally things are set this way, that the human race continues.
Death pulls man to finish their own circles around the earth, and this usually happens before the individual knows that they are going to die.
Then the hunger stops, doom encases their mind, and they stop seeking life saving measures, man will withdrawal from everything when death comes to them.
Is it at this time that the individual is truly alone, only whatever they believe is with them in those final hours.

Emotionally things are set this way, that the human race continues.
Death pulls man to finish their own circles around the earth, and this usually happens before the individual knows that they are going to die.
Then the hunger stops, doom encases their mind, and they stop seeking life saving measures, man will withdrawal from everything when death comes to them.
Is it at this time that the individual is truly alone, only whatever they believe is with them in those final hours.

Cupidus Mortis
Mar. 1st, 2025 08:05 pm
I await my death so eagerly like a dog for the newspaper, or a child for christmas, like a mother for a baby, or the trees for the rain.
I await my death so willingly,
as if I am waiting for the bus,
or in line at the grocery store,
or like I am waiting for the mail.
I sleep and I dream of my death so clearly, so clearly that I am confused when I awake again, and I see no time at all where I am not awaiting patiently, patiently for my demise,for this life of mine to cease to be, for my dreams to become reality.

I carry within my bones a pain that does not ease,
a thirst that does not quench, and a hunger that will never be fulfilled.
I carry within my mind past, present and future, I exist in each phase simultaneously.
And when I die I will take my mind, body and spirit with me, I will exist and not exist at the same time, I will be a thing and nothing at the same time.
And if God is so willing to meet me I will have only one question.
why now?
The other side of better
Feb. 27th, 2025 10:00 pm
People always say that things will get better, they never say how much.
If better is me just functioning and getting out of a bed, then yeah I guess it's better.
I wouldn't even know what the other side of better looks like.
What it would feel like to wake up and want to.
To have something, anything to want to live for.
To feel like something you do matters however small.
I see a world full of people walking around with no reason, so they make up their own reasons.
I see a world full of stuff, places and things but no meaning for it at all.
I see people try, fight and hope,
and for many that's all anyone can do.
I on the other hand; well I see no reason for any of this.
I haven't a thing to wake up for.
I am bothered by my own lack of humanity, I am bothered by my existence, my sense of self worth is non existent.
Not that I am less than anyone else.
Just that everything is less, and I don't see the meanings or value in anything, everything I do, I do inspite of my feelings towards it.
Yet nothing else questions it's own existence, it's own purpose, nothing else thinks that far, it is just humanity.
You'll never see a tree ask why it is here, or a bird stop singing because it doesn't want to be here.
And I for the life of me cannot create my own reason, my own will,
I wonder if there is a reason for that?
Everything is just absurdity, and I stand and watch life, people and the world; but I am not apart of it.

The things drugs see
Feb. 27th, 2025 06:21 pmI saw my death, more than one possibility, but I also saw me living life despite everything.
I couldn't see what path I am on,
seeing only instead pathways like branches of a tree.
I've seen myself outside of me, standing outside the world, outside of time, or anything we could measure.
And my thinking wasn't anything, the mind was leaving me, a space, a void is where I always go, and in it I am free of everything.
I couldn't see what path I am on,
seeing only instead pathways like branches of a tree.
I've seen myself outside of me, standing outside the world, outside of time, or anything we could measure.
And my thinking wasn't anything, the mind was leaving me, a space, a void is where I always go, and in it I am free of everything.
No other life
Feb. 26th, 2025 03:23 amI know no other life but pain, different levels of pain.
My bones ache,
My ears are sore,
My throat is swollen,
My eyes are worn.
My legs are weak,
My arms too meek,
My skin too itchy,
My hands don't keep;
ahold of the problems, the mind just sees another night of no sleep.
Tell me what peace can one find; living a life like mine?

My bones ache,
My ears are sore,
My throat is swollen,
My eyes are worn.
My legs are weak,
My arms too meek,
My skin too itchy,
My hands don't keep;
ahold of the problems, the mind just sees another night of no sleep.
Tell me what peace can one find; living a life like mine?

I think if I ever really rest, I shall lay myself down and my life will be over.
I will just stop like a clock.
I think if I ever really let go, I will slip into death, I will turn; like day into night.
Or perhaps like a book; the turning of a page.
I think if I ever relieve myself, the darkness will pour out of me more than blood, and all my ugliness will melt into a crown that will wrap around my heart, and then everyone will see what I am;
an object.
I will just stop like a clock.
I think if I ever really let go, I will slip into death, I will turn; like day into night.
Or perhaps like a book; the turning of a page.
I think if I ever relieve myself, the darkness will pour out of me more than blood, and all my ugliness will melt into a crown that will wrap around my heart, and then everyone will see what I am;
an object.
Sub-Correlation
Feb. 24th, 2025 11:54 pmSub-Correlation.
Who would ask a Bird to swim or a fish to fly?
Yet I must be something I am not.
Should I comfort you with a smile?
Do all the lies ease your mind?
So you; like the rest of the world; are in fact just so satisfied with what you believe.
A forest is a forest, even if it only has two trees to you.
And I am happy; a smile is what you see, so it must be true.
But I have seen the sun and moon out together, so is it night? or is it day?
And you assume that a child is happy; because they are playing, not because they are a child ,
and children play.
If everything has a purpose, then even the darkness does too.
And if I say I am nothing,
But you say I am a self, a thing of some worth or value, then who is right?
For I can measure nothing,
and all meaning you place is only yours.
Who is greater; the hero? or the villain?
without the villain, how could the hero ever rise?

Who would ask a Bird to swim or a fish to fly?
Yet I must be something I am not.
Should I comfort you with a smile?
Do all the lies ease your mind?
So you; like the rest of the world; are in fact just so satisfied with what you believe.
A forest is a forest, even if it only has two trees to you.
And I am happy; a smile is what you see, so it must be true.
But I have seen the sun and moon out together, so is it night? or is it day?
And you assume that a child is happy; because they are playing, not because they are a child ,
and children play.
If everything has a purpose, then even the darkness does too.
And if I say I am nothing,
But you say I am a self, a thing of some worth or value, then who is right?
For I can measure nothing,
and all meaning you place is only yours.
Who is greater; the hero? or the villain?
without the villain, how could the hero ever rise?

The death gate
Feb. 24th, 2025 07:37 pmI was walking a line and saw death, only a single gate stood between us.
I saw this gate before, I saw the other side, then I saw nothing, and I became what my eyes saw; I became nothing, there was no self, only a shell.
As if I was nothing more than a snail or a hermit crab.
A voice said; find something you find joy in, something that excites you, something to wake up for.
I am still looking for that,
I look everyday and everywhere,
I fear I may die before I find it,
I live in spite of will, reason or purpose.
I seek only functionality,
I feel as if that is all I can be: functional.
I sometimes don't feel human,
I sometimes feel artificial,
or like a robot.
I long for the day when I am not;
empty or lonely, where I am excited for something, anything, where my feelings aren't artificially created with medication.
I don't believe in hope, because it is a feeling too,
but I can't say what I don't know.
Who can say something is impossible, if they can't see tomorrow?
I am a fighter, I have fought for many years already and I know it's not over,
But in the back of my mind the clock is ticking, and I can feel it.
I sometimes feel trapped by my emotions, fear sinks in, doom encases my mind as if I am tied to a fate that I can't escape.
How can I do everything right and still fail?
That is like a bird with perfect wings but it is still unable to fly.
I saw this gate before, I saw the other side, then I saw nothing, and I became what my eyes saw; I became nothing, there was no self, only a shell.
As if I was nothing more than a snail or a hermit crab.
A voice said; find something you find joy in, something that excites you, something to wake up for.
I am still looking for that,
I look everyday and everywhere,
I fear I may die before I find it,
I live in spite of will, reason or purpose.
I seek only functionality,
I feel as if that is all I can be: functional.
I sometimes don't feel human,
I sometimes feel artificial,
or like a robot.
I long for the day when I am not;
empty or lonely, where I am excited for something, anything, where my feelings aren't artificially created with medication.
I don't believe in hope, because it is a feeling too,
but I can't say what I don't know.
Who can say something is impossible, if they can't see tomorrow?
I am a fighter, I have fought for many years already and I know it's not over,
But in the back of my mind the clock is ticking, and I can feel it.
I sometimes feel trapped by my emotions, fear sinks in, doom encases my mind as if I am tied to a fate that I can't escape.
How can I do everything right and still fail?
That is like a bird with perfect wings but it is still unable to fly.