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Literature Text
Failure washes over me
In stinking waves of self-loathing and misery.
I am not any less than anyone
So why does it take such a toll on my heart?
It seeps into the very bone
And my existence is nothing but short of art,
Of credit, of simple purpose.
I am left to feel the putridity of my soul,
To dive in those ruthless thoughts
Taking apart my being, whole,
Leaving the body to deal with the aftermath.
I long for the day I'll feel nothing.
As an empty shell, a corpse,
When indeed I'll be nothing.
Just so I can go on living.
In stinking waves of self-loathing and misery.
I am not any less than anyone
So why does it take such a toll on my heart?
It seeps into the very bone
And my existence is nothing but short of art,
Of credit, of simple purpose.
I am left to feel the putridity of my soul,
To dive in those ruthless thoughts
Taking apart my being, whole,
Leaving the body to deal with the aftermath.
I long for the day I'll feel nothing.
As an empty shell, a corpse,
When indeed I'll be nothing.
Just so I can go on living.
Literature
solitary confinement
there’s a terror with its claws so deep in my heart
that they only hurt when it shifts or squirms in my chest
i always forget the way that kisses
pour thickly down my throat like too much honey
and smother me
i always forget how the moon only ever speaks to me
in the cold and in the dark
when it’s sure no one else is there to hear
Literature
23. Failure
It was still light out when Chaos got back to the house, unintentionally slamming the door behind him, the smell of a cigarette still clinging tightly to his clothes and hands. It was warm enough now that he could leave the house and feel comfortable without wearing a jacket, but he'd still dyed his hair (with Eyes watching him critically) just to get rid of the nagging paranoia that still existed, even as the season had begun to change.
He flicked the light switch in on the wall experimentally, but not with much expectation. There was still no light, and he swore under his breath before opening the door up a crack again, just so he coul
Literature
Stubs of a Cigarette
opaque tendrils whispering—
vaporous poison clogging airways
choked by outlawed sentiments
slogging through azure veins
fleeing a traitorous organ; thrumming
[ming] [ming] to a hidden metronome—
winding haze stimulating snippets of
simpering emotions conspiring the
ultimate coup d’état; the metronome
staggers …an illuminated stub weaving
maleficent murmurings and swirling
stuttering sidebars; the metronome
forfeits, refusing to save a cluttered organ
cigarette stubs..ignited at single ends;
convalescer of stress, debt caller of life.
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I guess this is the result of dealing with depression?
In case anyone worries, I am not thinking of killing myself xD just so you know.
In case anyone worries, I am not thinking of killing myself xD just so you know.
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Comments3
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a bit morbid
die for living another life
forget to be reborn
die for living another life
forget to be reborn