Suicide Soul

Routine.Continuous.Constant
Hide away where the probing eyes of public cannot see
Conceal the carved flesh branding my bleeding skin
Smile through bold ,beautified,bountiful lies
Shamefully lock away all the razors and shards of glass
Hoping the depression will pass
Trying to cut out all the rage and pain
Called emo and whiny
But I do not rip at my flesh for attention
I do it to fight the demons in my head
To protect the taunting assholes whom keep killing my self confidence
So I will not rip out their throats for all the hell they put me through
The deeper I go the calmer I get
It eases the emotional torment and the distortion of my dying mind
Stopping never occurs
The need only grows and grows
Germinating with my whole existence
Plaguing me like a disease
Do they want to be a prisoner like me?
Or do they wish for me to hang myself
Maybe slit my own throat
Oh wait,they do it for me
Day in and day out
My monsters whisper to kill
Yet I resist
Instead I harm myself to quiet whatever is living within me
To suffuse the sickness making me a puppet
I cannot scream for no one ever hears me
They only pull the blinds to darken my time
Ticking I hear in this bed of nails
This closet that is my hell
Burn.Burn.Burn.Burn
Scattered pieces everywhere
The remnants of my humanity fleeting
So as it roars and rears it’s ugly head
And I reach for my weapon
I cut my own throat to make this war waging stop
No one ever cared enough to help me
So I watch the light fade with me
Praying no one will find my body
So my mother will not have to see what this struggle has made me do
Freedom from all the clawing at my tattered heart

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About Into Oblivion

It's a midnight Kiss from Hell A sweet spell that Poetry sells to my shadowy mind I just like writing random poetry and shit
This entry was posted in Bullying, Cutting, Dark, Emotion, Hopelessness, Misery, Pain, Poetry, Suicide and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Suicide Soul

  1. I love the level of darkness that you have. It reminds me of my alter ego and she also writes poetry when she’s not scratching paint or wood from the walls

    Like

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