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Waiting on redemption day; She needs him, while she fades away. Twenty Tylenol and she's going fast- things blur into a spinning elliptical of sorts, mysteriously. But she knows what she's done.
The rain, the storms, the showers... They last for hours and hours I lay in the dark In fear of my thoughts You see it's from them that I cower The rain, the storm, the showers...
Call me an emo, I don't care anymore. I've been bullied for years now, and people have always been putting me down. I'm an outcast, a loner.
Eyes that are so pretty. Though I see it in your stare. Behind your fancy clothes. And in your darkened hair. You carry all these secrets. They're killing you inside. From your inner demons.
Have you ever cried without shedding a tear. A heart that feels too heavy - almost more than you can bear. Songs on the radio rip you all apart.
As you try to live your life. All your fears get in your way. You try to go to your special place. Away from all the pain and hate. Where all worries disappear. And everything seems crystal clear.
My body shakes with aggravation. My eyes fill with tears of adoration. The blood thatís spilled is blood of longing. To start to feel a belonging. To you. Your eyes sparkle, full emotions.
Hold me I'm drowning Save me I'm suffocating Down on my feet I can feel a force Pulling me down to the endless sea How long have I held my breath.
Falling down. Further And Further. Until theres no elation left. Only hard ground. A solid block of reality disguised as paragraphs and words. Surrounded by tampered thoughts, a barrage of hurt.
Time goes by so slowly, decisions made and done. The actions of a coward, though brave enough for some. Hallucinations of a man, whos sealed his own dark fate.
My gift is my curse. The words i sew are true. Love tattoed on my skin, behold scars old and new. A demon from the darkness, the bane of my own mind. Telling me to do it, speaking words to me unkind.
I woke with a start. My legs jerking upwards and I reached back with my arms trying to pull myself up. Why was everything white. Everything was fucking white.
Dear friend I have failed you again, In the deep the dark settles in, And the blood spilt from your wrists, I can't help but notice this.
I haven't had a real convo in days and so much shit has been going on. I'm not really the type to share my feelings. I guess you could call me a loner.
Everything my dear Has been going wrong Death decided to grip my throat and never let go, until I give up. I won't, I'm a fighter But the feeling is so content, so tempting, I could never.
Thoughts etched into the flesh on the blade of cold steel. Thoughts that you believe cannot be spoken.
Scars remain as faded memories of a time where wrists where painted red and thoughts where painted black. I am the artist of my own demise, a portrait of my life drawn onto my wrists in blood red.
(Originally posted 5 month ago) I cordially invite you to offer me feedback. But I don't want to hear negatives, I don't like that. Say what you want as long as its pleasant.
I've just recently got likes on a old Opuss .. It's called 'Cutting' I wrote it months ago .. I barely remember. My life has changed so much for the better. I was lost in despair.
For many artists and creators of worlds, Opuss is a realm of therapy, Somewhere to safely exorcise demons and ponder on what could be.
So after reading some very harrowing posts today I'm going to get on my soap box and have a rant. Self harm is a tricky subject.
This is me, It was my decision, Ugly, freak, emo, This is me, And these are my scars. No-one understands them, Not even my closest friends, I've been discarded, All because of, My scars.
#FreeVerse Worry Always on the edge of my mind Like a knife That Just. Won't. Leave. Like an edge that I can't drink away Can't drown Can't burn Can't cut Can't cure.
Padded room,. Locked door,. Safe from harm,. Yet still. Insecure,. Drugs don't. Work,. Mind races,. She's walked. The room,. A million paces,. Not insane,. Just mixed. Messages,. Tap tap tap,.