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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:15:06 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 172624
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Not meant to Love
[time] => 2012-05-22 17:17:55
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => how do you know what happiness is how do you know how to laugh when you're only comfortable in suffering when you only know the torture when the torture is a devastating comfort when dying is the only way to feel alive when your own blood and terror keeps you tied to the earth when you don't want to die, you just don't want to be alive when there has never been comfort in the human touch when people smiling is your own death certificate when you sleep all day to be awake less time leave my mind as fast as possible im gone, theres nowhere i can go without the chatter more aware, care less put up with anything for a moment of nothing die inside, die every hour of every day pause the hatred for a night make it inner violence keep stirring up the negative feelings, they're the only ones left keep stirring, prolonging bloodshed for another hour pass out, have the dreams of self-destruction support is no support i love you means you're my blood and nothing else what i want what i need are equal in terror what i want silent in terror closed eyes getting stabbed, can't feel it, so i can sleep for the night i hate feeling nothing i hate feeling everything i can never find the middle ground nothing laughing in hell everything terrorizing the material world in nothing nobody else gets hurt in nothing nobody else can hear saves the time of ruining anything else everything makes it unable to love i don't know what it is, so how could i share whatever heart i have left if i can't even find it i can't even listen to anyone, they all speak another language i have always been bad at that i have always been bad at that pretend i know nothing so i can share nothing don't know what to share don't know what i'm worth, if i even am worth opening my mouth i've always been the alien, somehow out of the loop with the universe pretending to give a ***** about anything when in reality i could care less about anybody that's my problem if i could care less about people what do i have to look forward to people that love me don't even know me i am expected to say and react certain ways to everything you are satisfied, now i can go lock myself away and peacefully rot away say hello, now i can go stab myself happiness, i continually wonder what the true definition means just to be baseline is a challenge in itself i have dreams i have the dreams of suffering of a slow death of leaving this world of human skin, faces, blood, words i don't want anymore words i don't need anymore words it is a daily struggle between myself and myself the world doesn't play a part in it anymore i am wrong, i have always been wrong just destroy me right now im not meant to love just kill me just kill me slowly just kill me slowly without an audience as i've always had i'm scared that people will watch me die [comments] => 0 [counter] => 197 [topic] => 72 [informant] => zannihilator [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => self-harmpoetry )
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