I’m falling from this cliff, this empire of shattered glass,
 The jagged shards of horror glimmering,
Magnificently in the light,
Bloodied rainbows,
 Reflecting off the body strewn, bloody water
Of the overflowing moat.
Each shard is a piece of me,
A destroyed broken twisted piece of what was once my life.
Every shard holds the ghost of an image, a memory.
But each is stained,
Stained with old and new,
Fresh and aged, splatters of blood.
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Every terrible, horrible thing you said,
The insults, the shouting, the terrible guilt,
All of it that you forced into my brain,
Torturing my soul, till the white as a dove innocence,
Was nearly as dark and morbidly twisted,
As your own disgustingly foul soul.
Screaming I laid in my dark, haunting room,
The image of you never leaving me in peace.
You haunted me, driving me to this insanity.
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Slowly and painfully, you dug your way in,
Into my life, my heart, my mind, my soul.
You screamed at me, Harsh cruel words,
No human should be able to use without remorse.Â
You smiled cruelly, digging at old wound long forgotten in my mortal mind,
 You damaged me beyond repair, hiding me away, further than any help could reach.
I cried and sobbed there, in that horrid pit, despair and fear reeked in the air,
 My bright red lips and my hollow voice muttering your name over and over,
 While tears; bright as the crimson blood on my wrists,
Soaking the pale skin of my face,
And silent screams tried to rip themselves from my bruised body.
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Days after weeks after months after years,
I hide away from you, in my cold dead mind.
My worn out, bruised and  beaten body, numb to your touch,
Lies coldly on the floor, curled up in a pool of blood,
Not truly dead, but not quite alive.
Body twitching, forgetting, mouth muttering unintelligible words,
They stare, they wonder, needle, I.V.s, bright white rooms.
How much more of this can I stand?
How many more voices? Faces? Questions?
Leave me alone! Â Stop taunting me in this way!
Your voice, you face your laughter haunts me even in death,
Even through the haze of drugs, it haunts me.
It haunts me through the twisted mental trails of insanity,
Through the barbed wire fences surrounding me,
My palace of ashes, my safe haven, the only place you couldn’t reach,
Found and destroyed, your torment never leaving me.
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Death, cold and cruel, with twisted hands grips my throat,
No breath and a twisted smile on my lips,
Gasps and screams from the men and women in the white coats,
Hanging limply, eyes glazed over, blood dripping softly to the padded floor.
Finally left in silence, the one place you can reach me,
Cold Death’s pale palace, white spirits guard me here,
I don’t remember you as I shuffle aimlessly through twisting corridors,
Hallways lit by lifeless flames, many others walk here, but none speak,
That twisted grin of peace and joy still softly placed on my icy lips.
Insanity glimmering in my cold, unseeing eyes.
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1 comment
Oh look, it’s my soul. This is a wonderful expression of emotion, and poetry all mixed into one. The best kind.