To all who reviewed and took your time to read my posts, thank you and good bye.
I wonder if I should just remain eternally at 16,
just stopping time in its track before it strikes 12 before the 16th of July.
Should I fufill the promise of 10 years ago,
and put an end to this chapter,
or should I break it to stay?
Time whipping by before my eyes,
this deed long over dued,
I’m living on borrowed time.
To disappear into foam while looking at the sky,
to be one with that nothingness that I loved,
to merge with the being known as emptiness and be non-existant.
Strangely I feel content,calm even,
I’m at peace, I am one with myself,
the summer breeze toys with my hair- and I look out into the balcony to never look back.
An:Just some passing thoughts and images running through my brains. Just emptying it out of my system by writing it out.
It’s oddly werid really,
how the sorrow comes back after every laugh,
The slight stinging sensation,
Prickling my numbing hurt.
I loved her, I really do,
She was my all , my everything , the love of my life,
and everything that I could ask for,
I promised to protect her forever , and yet it was me who made that promise a never.
I hurt her, I caused her worry, I made her grieve,
All because of my twisted thoughts, my twisted ways and twisted being.
I ruined her, her present ,her future,
And there’s nothing I can do apart from saying a miserable ” I’m sorry” that can never help with anything.
She smiles, she comforts me , she tells me not to worry,
And yet I can see the cracks, the sorrow beneath those orbs, the harm that I’ve done her wrong,
And I know that therr is nothing I can do to change that.
She hardly laughs anymore,
Worry lies forming at her forehead and she frowns.
I know that she’s putting on a mask for me ,
but it breaks me more to see her so broken, and I feel as though I should be sentenced to an eternity of torment for hurting her , for making her cry ,for being so selfish that I never disappear from her eyes.
I’m guilty, my love is tainted, and it feels as though I’ve dirtied her with my hands,
I scrub my skin till it bleeds but I can’t scrub off the dirt that’s on my hands,
I’ve fallen so far and sunken so much that it seems that I’ll never see the light of day.
I’ve fallen prisoner to my thoughts,my delusions and my distorted sense of reality.
It feels as though I am sent to exile,
Barely breathing and living,
awaiting for my life long prison sentence.
An: This was a poem that I wrote when I was nine, I have no idea why but this poem draws the emotions of me who is present now. I’m becoming a tad mad with my bouts of sudden despair overwhelming me for no apparent reason and it is affecting my work. I have an examination this entire week and yet I keep doing something else and am being apathetic to all the things that used to concern me. It feels as though I’ve awoke to find that I should cease to exist because I am a waste of space and all efforts are just futile.
Sometimes it feels as though I am disappearing into foam.
Day by day,
Bits and pieces of me seem to go away.
I feel a part of my dying,
I feel as though I am vanishing,
my existance slowly becoming nothing.
I am so afraid of disappearing.
What would happen if I find myself being unable to open my eyes one day ?
What would happen if I am unable to move my limbs?
I am afraid, scared, fearful of life and what it has installed for me.
A single crack,
That was all it was.
But from that very crack,
Spreading and slithering,
Destroying me and my very core,
My soul , my existence.
That is what my life is.
I am merely an image, a mirage , a reflection of someone who exists,
I do noy exist and I have always been, without a real existence before me.
I disappear, I vanish ,I become non-existant.
Oh how I wish to be able to be alive.
I cry, I sob , I scream
And yet these emotions are not mine.
They are not mine and they have never been.
AN: Another poem here. Thank you for taking the time to read this. The ironic thing about this poem though is that I don’t drink and yet I’m writing about that.Great if someone reviewed, to all those out there who likes to drink, does this poem connect with anyone of you?
Round and round the roulette goes,
will it stop or will it blow?
Slipping into oblivion,
it’s time to drink like the Russians and let go.
It’s time to drink your worth,
and bet your all in this one barrel,
a single shot,
and you might finally get to rot.
Heave ho and we go,
drinking till the sun goes down,
drinking our fill till we frown,
this is the night that we will live.
And round and round the barrel goes,
silvery shimmer swirling within,
this is the night where we live till our fullest,
a night with no more sorrows.
I wonder if I’m mad.
At times I feel so content with life
and the next moment I’m loathing it.
I want to be special, that elite, that genius, that child prodigy,
And yet when I look back ,
all I want is a simple life , a simple home, and experience that simple happiness.
Depressing thoughts come swiftly in my mind,
whispering such tempting and soothing threats,
and only with it do I feel alive.
Am I twisted, a lunatic , a mad man for thinking such a thing?
It feels as though despair has becomed my only friend.
And without it I feel incomplete.
Despair, it is the black of the night,
and the night of the day.
It lurks at every corner,
waiting to come your way.
I want to be free of such thoughts,
and yet I want to be shackled by it,
for it gives me a sense of vurnerability that makes me feel human.
Tell me anyone,
have I gone insane?
AN: I just joined this website and this was something that I wrote a while back when I was down.I don’t happen to have any mental disorders or abnormalities and the disorders written in here are merely words that flowed into my mind when I was down. I don’t mean to offend anyone here , I’m just sharing my poem. It’d be great if anyone replied though…
The horrors of my mind,
they haunt my days and night.
I’m afraid to close my eyes,
for I know that it is there where they reside.
I’m so empty that it scares me.
Purplish bruises form below my eyes,
I hardly sleep
and yet I am alive.
Depression and manic episodes.
I laugh like mad, and turn into a sobbing mess.
Tell me ,
is this my mind playing tricks on me?
I want to go back but I can’t,
for I’ve long forgotten who I was.
Obsessive compulsive disorder,
Borderline disorder and dissociated personalities.
Someone help me.
But here I am laughing at my plight,
my futile efforts turning into a game for my own amusement,
would someone please,
end my life?