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Array ( [sid] => 106839 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Nothing More [time] => 2005-09-30 20:28:39 [hometext] => Bleed out on the truth.Here I am bleeding too.All these years I’ve blamed you.You are me, she is me [bodytext] => Here we are, fresh
At the apocalypse of inevitability
Faith has carried us thus far
And now we bite the hand
Slit the wrist
Of all that holds us

Bleed out on the truth
You’re nothing
Nothing more than what I made you
Nothing more than what I made you

Dark eye circles and fracture, welt
We are united together, this is our hell
The realization
Recognition
We are one, we are inhibition

Bleed out on the truth
You’re nothing
Nothing more than what I gave you
Nothing more than what I gave you

And in the mirror here
With the simple cuts of relief
And on the floor there
The cold wake up of disbelief

Bleed out on the truth
You’re nothing
You’re nothing more than what I named you
You’re nothing more than what I named you

The girl desperate and pleading
Inside the sacrifice body
The girl sad and bleeding
Unite desire and the release
You are me, she is me

Bleed out on the truth
Here I am bleeding too
All these years I’ve blamed you

You are me, she is me

The girl intertwined
Unite, despise
The wretched disguise
This body was sacrifice
Take all my alibis
She was my prize
The simple demise

All these years I’ve bled on the lies
Now I’ll bleed out the truth
This is the death of you
You are nothing, she is nothing
Nothing more than,
Nothing more than,

I HATE YOU
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 233 [topic] => 76 [informant] => weepingprophet [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => obsession )
Nothing More

Contributed by weepingprophet on Friday, 30th September 2005 @ 08:28:39 PM in AEST
Topic: obsession



Here we are, fresh
At the apocalypse of inevitability
Faith has carried us thus far
And now we bite the hand
Slit the wrist
Of all that holds us

Bleed out on the truth
You’re nothing
Nothing more than what I made you
Nothing more than what I made you

Dark eye circles and fracture, welt
We are united together, this is our hell
The realization
Recognition
We are one, we are inhibition

Bleed out on the truth
You’re nothing
Nothing more than what I gave you
Nothing more than what I gave you

And in the mirror here
With the simple cuts of relief
And on the floor there
The cold wake up of disbelief

Bleed out on the truth
You’re nothing
You’re nothing more than what I named you
You’re nothing more than what I named you

The girl desperate and pleading
Inside the sacrifice body
The girl sad and bleeding
Unite desire and the release
You are me, she is me

Bleed out on the truth
Here I am bleeding too
All these years I’ve blamed you

You are me, she is me

The girl intertwined
Unite, despise
The wretched disguise
This body was sacrifice
Take all my alibis
She was my prize
The simple demise

All these years I’ve bled on the lies
Now I’ll bleed out the truth
This is the death of you
You are nothing, she is nothing
Nothing more than,
Nothing more than,

I HATE YOU




Copyright © weepingprophet ... [ 2005-09-30 20:28:39]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Nothing More (User Rating: 1 )
by Archie on Saturday, 1st October 2005 @ 01:15:12 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Are you saying that you hate yourself?

Be careful that it does not turn into depression.

I like your poem from an honest point of view.


Re: Nothing More (User Rating: 1 )
by weepingprophet on Saturday, 1st October 2005 @ 05:57:58 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Self-hatred is the first step to recovery. I hate myself for many reasons, many choices and it gets to a point in life when death makes it noticeable that desperation and hope lie only in ones self-demise. you have to hate what is killing you to change it, i have hated myself, i have been depressed and those two things are cruelly and brutally honest, regardless. We find life and living not essential but bearable because we learn to endure the honest perspective, reflection, and when that produces self-hate, enough for one to change I would say that is dangerously close to what others label as "recovery"and therefore well worth the price of freedom.

you close minded f**ks open your eyes, the truth in all its light, it's your uncompromised demise. Despise me, advise me, you'll always deny me. In the end you will find me, to be what you are not, brutally honest, sold but not bought, to lies.~weepingprophet


Re: Nothing More (User Rating: 1 )
by Bohemian_with_a_pen on Saturday, 1st October 2005 @ 11:42:54 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
another awesome poem, well done




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