Free hand to write
On the edge of polite
To the mind and soul
Moods high or low
Circling the pain
That keeps me sane
Will I today survive
Hurt says I’m alive
Praying to the God enveloped in my head
Why own thoughts are wishing me dead
Confined to the 4 corners of my room
Take me now, or take me soon
Heavy head with knees a bleeding
Nodding still, crouching and pleading
Babbling a language all of my own
Can’t find solitude, until I’m home
Various flashbacks of whom im calling
Above my eyes raising and falling
Swallowing my soul, my light to see
Who am I?, who will save me?
Answer now or forever stay silent
So I can walk peacefully
Into the twilight.
When you go to sleep
I shall weep
In private, tears will fall
Requiring help, I won’t call
Cries drown my pillow
From days of sorrow
Always a restless hour
With thoughts turning sour
Awake in a personal hell
Mind is my prison cell
Cut me open, make it swift
Bleed me empty, as a gift
Blood shall be my last weep
Peace now, forever sleep.
A box is only alive on the inside,
On the outside
Souls swim round deciding to enter
Or stay out in the open.
Choices become over thought
Becoming almost dangerous to trust instincts,
A simple answer feels high risk
Playing safe turns life into familiar situations
A comfortable uncomfortable,
Layers upon layers of protection
From an invisible inevitable.
It suffocates, squeezes the mind
To the extent of lashing out.
I will sit outside the box
And wonder of the magic
That changes life
If you notice how I feel
Please don’t go ahead and ask
As my tears will start to surface
And wash away my mask,
You stare in to my eyes
To notice I’m not blinking
Please keep my aching secret
Inside my heart is sinking,
I will just get through this moment
Squeeze my hand, but keep my lie
My strength will suppress my tears
Only alone will I break and cry.
Waiting but it’s already here
The dark space to which I crawl
Pushing to escape this prison,
The boundaries on which I draw
Smiling but I’m already dead
Internally an empty house of glass
Every step, a step too far
Painful to survive, to forever last
Thinking but the thought has stuck
An enemy of autonomy and will
I’m safe in my compulsive home
Never to breathe, never too kill
History but not the present
Happy with my compulsive lie
Only one certainty calms my soul
I will not live, I will not die.
To believe in the chemical of blackness,
A slight of light in the sky, turns out to be a fool’s romance.
Which means stars are a gift from distance,
Not a shooting mirage, viewed by chance.
The past is the past until it doesn’t last,
When does it start catching up to you?
The answer is never,
if you endeavor to end history prematurely.
Get off, get on the ride
Both a form of suicide
Dont just weep on seeing the sheep,
Wander to your own haven
Where thoughts are enslaved
And banished on the grounds of rationality.
Can never change a believer
Unless doubt breeds from within,
Then belief becomes a story
An ugly fairy tale
That grew its roots in truth
But no longer serves a purpose
Other than a reminder
Imagination has a sensation
That lends itself to emotional illusion.
Holding my hand onto the chest
grabbing at the beat,
closing my eyes
to place a palm face to the ground,
I send to you a wave of comfort
vibrating to your soul,
Untying the mind
of loneliness and hunger,
I shall remain silent,
where i’m knelt,
Embracing the knowledge from the earth
that when your heart skips,
to a sound of warmth and compassion
my gift has been felt.