giving myself a reason to die every waking moment keep stacking the losses
the cringe and convulsions
anger and repulsion
to make me do it
please.
and you better not cry
i convince myself one day
it’ll be enough
to be permanent again
enough to truly end.
not my obsessive annunciation of my thoughts to escape
when the memory burns back
i deserve to kill myself for the events of each day
you should kill yourself no one should be forgiven for creating that type of pain
do it kill yourself do it you should feel fire as you drown in the rain
i should kill myself
maybe you should fucking kill yourself
finger guns planted on my face
bitch kill yourself
for now the thoughts fade away.
self destruction of such massive proportions it has to be natural to have the patterns in my brain.
they told me about self forgiveness in those months away
but y’all know your words didn’t stick much anyways
you loved me and hugged me
brought me from a child to an ace
but you didn’t take up enough space.
i know that you worry,
i know that sometimes you may miss me,
i miss you so dearly,
all of you.
the center of attention,
the troubled teen,
just having fun,
i reminded you of
when you were young.
cause in rehab i came to live it up.
i’m in rehab what are you gonna do to me? 51?
honestly they should’ve a few times, but you know i’d laugh it off.
yeah it’s just me being dramatic as fuck.
it really does help to be funny and kind,
get on the staffs good side, baby you’re set for life.
my only witnesses are all of you other loony bitches
and you know i mean it with all the love i gave.
in life all of you have been used as slaves
to the brain
to the man
to the money
to the feeling
and maybe i talk a little too much
maybe im crass
i was the light in the day in a room full of growth and decay
borderline histrionic with the love of a lions den
your lives still changed who i am
i wish i wrote all the words you all spoke
the way you nurtured me even in words that you never spoke
i have so many options yet i still don’t cope
they say that i’ve changed i’m convinced i won’t
what did you all see in me?
why did you all encourage me to follow my dreams?
you recognized my intelligence
told me the envy of my confidence
but what have i done since?
you tell me i’m young, i’m gonna succeed,
but don’t you see that’s the most terrifying part for me?
i’m crazy.
i’m not ready.
let me be the one who keeps coming back.
you believed in me tell me i’m ready,
and maybe part of me is
but i just started my twenties fresh out the bin,
not sober even before i left,
all i know is sin
i wish i could see you all again, for all i know some of ya are dead.
it tugs on my feelings when i can’t stop thinking about the people who saved my life
snorting fetanal all over again,
but i’ve seen it happen
thank god he hasn’t crashed yet
but has life died yet?
when i remember who i am again
the text messages i wrote,
the drunk talk,
the way he spoke and the way i did it again.
those moments of love crash in fucking the violence
the chaos i endured
and what i gave out again.
you should kill yourself
fucking kill yourself shoot the bullet in your head.
bitch try killing yourself again
i could never tell you how low i could go,
because truthfully i don’t even know
how low you’ve gone
i’ve gone deeper
in a psychotic secretement of agony
of my demise
every inch of hate i put out
is the pounds i keep in
and when i scream
it’s like i’m screaming to me
every mess i make
the life of mistakes
all to make me truly go through
not in the pussy way that i do.
where there’s a chance i’m dying so little or i simply black out, or back out
only a few attempts have been real
but i failed at those too.
i basically have nothing to lose.
but those few things i remember still sing.
i hear your voices in my head again.
if you were the bad person you think you are you wouldn’t feel bad again,
you would be happy you hurt someone as badly
as the ones who smiled as you burned,
hit you with sticks until you had to purge
your identity,
humanity,
and security away.
you feel bad everyday, not everyone can say the same.
you got bad at 19 you decided to stay here
instead of spending summer and fall getting fucked up all day.
you might not feel like you’re doing enough,
but you stick to your guns.
not everyone can say they come in here
talking about
politics, religion, their past,
and fears for the future
and still put on a slutty outfit with matching makeup everyday.
you debate men in their 50s with no hesitation
and always have something to say,
you still make time to speak to almost everyone
and give most of your love away.
you inspire women older than you everyday,
only 19 and no one gets in your way.
except you.
it’ll always be you
who you’re fighting with
the meds and machines
they can go a long way,
but because your core beliefs are rotten
you’re already set on decaying today.
when your beliefs change
you will
everyone else will see it too.
maybe some of them have changed but i still feel the same.
i’ll keep yelling at myself to kill myself until the thoughts run away.