The Paintbrush

She reaches for her paintbrush, it’s time again to paint.

She holds it close to her canvas, not using any restraint,

All the while keeping her expression quite quaint.

This painting shall be her finest, her most magnificent vignette.

She paints in crimson red, lustfully meticulous as if outlining her silhouette.

This final piece she will fail to ever regret. 

Almost now complete, she paints her last stroke.

She saves the best for last, as her finale can all but be revoke.

But now comes a twist you won’t believe, as if it were a gruesome joke.

She painted a gorgeous picture upon a canvas, you see?

But her brush was but a blade, her canvas but the wrist of she.

The crimson paint she used was but her liquid life she wished to free.

But now her lovely painting fades,

For her arm holds no more blood to keep it vivid in shades.

Forevermore, she continues to fade ‘til nothing else remains.

But now, you see, there is but one more twist.

For her mind was really the razor

And her heart was but her wrist.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

For a day without pain, without regret, without  fear.

For the day when I am no longer isolated within in my own mind.

For that day when my war has been won.

I sulk. I sit. I wait. 

I hope to one day greet this day, for my bleeding heart yearns for this reunion.

The day has still yet to show, and my strength is growing thin.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

This hope I still hold looks an awful lot like fear. 

                                        When will this day come?

For it looks like that day to never come.

I sulk. I sit. I wait.

For I realize that day is not too far away. 

What do you dream about at night?

What do you dream about at night when you’re all alone in your bed?

All alone at night.

Do you dream about dreaming,

Only reaching for success within the depths of your sheltered hallucinations?

The hallucinations never end.

Do you dream about death,

Only to be disillusioned when you awaken every morning?

Sleep serves merely as your temporary demise.

Do you dream about love lost,

Only to become disheartened when you can’t even find it in that black hole you call your mind.

Love will never find you.

Or do you just never dream at all?

Because that would simply be the worst of all.

What do you dream about at night?

That Feeling...

That feeling of wanting despite not needing;

That feeling of endless, agonizing pain despite efforts to heal;

That feeling of pure emptiness despite being physically whole;

That feeling of loneliness despite being surrounded by others;

That feeling  of shame despite no one knowing what you’ve done to yourself;

That feeling of hopelessness despite knowing it will get better;

That feeling of weakness despite the eternal  determination;

That feeling of uncertainty despite knowing exactly what’s wrong;

That feeling that's illogically logical. 

Trapped In My Addiction

Hope has found me but I won’t let it in.

I’ve shut my windows and locked my doors.

I’ve trapped myself in my own mind, no escape.

And now I’m running out of air.

I hold my breath,

I like the darkness.

Empty

Dead inside, I try to breathe.

How can I go on living like this?

Nothing’s making sense,

there’s something wrong with me.