Poetry
My Stuff
Contents

Your tongue is a whip whose words tear through my scarred and rotting flesh to rip out my heart.
I reside in my tortured existance until I am infatuated with the sweet metalic stench of my own spilled blood and lust for my own black death.
Others may feel the pain of the body, the mind, or the spirit, but mine is the perfect and pure anguish of the lost soul.
The infinate darkness and consumate emptyness of being utterly alone engulf me, yet fools wonder why I am deranged.
I am jaded of this desolate pain and depression, but how else can I feel? I am the living dead.
My pain is my pleasure and my pleasure, my pain.

I now feel the need to scar my wretched form because I realize how detestable and useless it truely is. I am the empty void, a shell of a human being. I copy the movements of others and have nothing new to offer. I am a worthless chunk of flesh, blood, and other entrails who lost her soul, personality, and mind long ago. I am repulsive and hopeless to everyone, including myself, and should just die to save everyone from my annoyances, but I don't have the courage. I put on a show, do my little dance, and pretend to be somebody special too.
I am devoid of feeling and I am mechanical.
I am lifeless; I am dead.

It's our big secret, huh Daddy?
Don't tell anybody, huh?
They can't know how scared I was or how close
To death.
It even scared you didn't it?
Except this time it was your own two hands.
Did the pain pull you back?
Did you really mean to do it?
So... you plan to tell her you fell on it.
You really think she'll buy that?
Now I know exactly where they get it from.
Especially him,
He always did want to impress you.
He always did want to be just like you, daddy.
I think in some ways he succeeded.

I now know the truth
But am oh so confused
You've made me feel everything
And left me with nothing (a void)
From what you've taken away
I know it will all stay
The way it was
Before there was you

You've made me bleed
But only to feel, to fulfill your great need
As everything I want
And all that I knew
Slips away

I still want to love you
To kill for you
To die for you
But can I?
May I?
I don't even know
And I'm still oh, so confused

Son of mine, Godchild
I love you, I really do
Even though I only show you apathy and disgust
A vision of a knife through your heart
Cold, on a slab of glass
A little life cut short; I pray to be wrong
Daddy only beats you
Mommy doesn't care anymore
Wasted lives
Surrounded by needles of vacancy
You are a plague, a disease
Flowing away
As the tears gown your face
On Christmas Eve
She blamed you
They just can't see the truth
I wish I could save you
And take you under my wing
But I wouldn't do too
Child without a future I see

All happiness is lost
My heart, cold as the winter frost
The day blood stained the white tiles of your mind

How could you leave me this way?
There's really nothing I can say
To the red canyon that encircles your arm, my heart

Cold and lonely....
If only?
Probably not.

Tired of hope
Tired of life
Tired of wishing I were dead

I'm so tired of these hollow nights
Lying sleepless in my bed

Tired of lonliness
Tired of feeling
Tired of everlasting dread

I'm so sick from the nothingness
Seeping from my empty head

Tired of the here
Tired of the now
Tired of listening to the shit that's said

Can't I just sleep for forever
Of poison or the blade or lead?

Godforsaken, misshapen being
Malformed mind not worth seeing
Into the glassy stare of teardrop eyes
Seething with grotesque and abrasive lies
Of self deceit from within
Much of agony and more of sin

Malice, mockery, pestilence, then pain
Nothing to lose, not much left to gain
Ending in a drowning bloodbath
Profane in glory of retribution and wrath
Crimson sword raised in diabolical exault
Triumph manifest in torrid revolt

Emulation of a God on high
In putrid writhing form
Sweet piercing of this bloodstone heart
To quell the rising storm
Lying lifeless among jagged rocks
Bloodstained, broken, bruised
Washing away; a slow decay
The fate of the often misused

Dreams and memories locked in cages, barricaded by conformity and shut away from Reality. Teardrops of pain long forgotten, wishing for consolence from a faded energy. Wandering the labrynthe of self sufficient pondering, donwcast and disillusioned after years of apathy. Fading phamtasma; frantic exodus of dilapidated morality. Sinking of the soul; shattered glass heart, transparent as crystal quartz. Evil eyes so many times, far to numerous to count, 'till I become a reflection in the looking glass of atrocity. Morpheus dust encrusted eyes, distortion forever more in a sleep of desolace. Laceration of my opiate; drowned in bloody discontent. Facade of hallowed martyrdom in haunted derisions of truth. Agony of futile efforts to eradicate the lies within. Feindish placebo to quell the fires of reclamation and seduce the thrull back into bondage.

Hurting all over,
Won't you let me ease this suffering?
I need an outlet
For these overflowing arteries.

Clot out the sun
Death overcome
This haunted stone heavy
Heart beating with me.

I miss that hug that everyone else now gets
I miss your calming smell
I miss those soft, sweet kisses on my forehead...
And the passionate ones on the mouth
I miss a shoulder to cry on, someone to lean on,
And a love that seemed so true
But most of all I miss You.

(4/3/01) You will never know the sadness, pain, lonliness, anger, or hatred you have caused just as you may never know your daughter because you just don't seem to care.

Why do people hurt you 'till you want to die?
Why do the ones you love the most only make you want to cry?
It hurts like the crucifiction.
It hurts like hell

I just wanted to be happy
But then you made me fall
I just wanted you
And you've taken it all

I just wanted your love
To be the one for you
Then you left me
And tore my heart in two

I just wanted someone to hold
To take me away from the pain
But you just droped me
And left me here once again

I just needed someone
Someone to care
But now all I can do is wake up
And realize you were never there

Why do people hurt you 'till you want to die?
Why do the ones you love most only make you cry?
It hurts like the crucifiction,
But I guess there never was one.....

(Doesn't this sound like it's supposed to be a song?)

Poetry
My Stuff
Contents