So help me out. Consolidate my hate. Give me a chance to focus. Give me a chance to live, breathe and exhale. Leech the toxins from the oil-spill beachscape of my jet-black heart.
Archive for September, 2007
**Not written by me. Found it on the ‘net.**
she sits in the corner,
bleeding and silent tears roll down her face.
she wants to cry out.
she opens her mouth,
nothing comes out.
this weary soldier must suffer in silence yet again.
no noise can escape her tender lips.
she is hiding from the enemy,
alone in the darkness.
then she realizes,
she has one last option.
to take her own life!
before the god of life can be her salvation.
she pulls out her “survival” knife,
*ironic huh?*
the very knife that has saved her in the past,
will now be her very grim fate,
a fate that we all share.
she puts it to her tender skin,
and makes the line,
the precise cut, one last cut.
darkness now engulfs her.
the demons of hell accept her.
another demonic angel of death.
this soldiers battle has ended.
Another poem, not wriiten by me, found somewhere in cyberspace
I’ve emptied out
All forms of expression
Picking up
Little bits of depression
Water deep enough to take a dive
I’m breathing but I’m not alive
I hit so low
Nothing gets me inspired
I’ve done nothing
And already so tired
Sleep has beaten the living-strive
I’m breathing but I’m not alive
Apocalypse outside
Will not penetrate my bed
It’s never as loud
As the silence in my head
Thirsty for pain to feel revived
I’m breathing but I’m not alive
Real feelings never will arrive
I’m breathing but I’m not alive
