A Requiem

You bleed waning passion.

We watch it escape every crevasse,

Every pour,

Every crack in your flesh.

You grow hope in your garden of denial.

We watch them bloom into their demise,

As you have no water to sanctify them.

You sleep with cozening shadows.

We watch your every breathe;

With every inhale you let in your demons,

With every exhale you sink deeper in your quietus.

You smile with fear beneath your teeth.

We watch you force every grin,

As you lean to kiss your fear instead of me.

You shuffle off this mortal coil.

We watch you flee with a bullet,

As you give up the ghost and set your soul to eternal rest.

You lay on the lamenting floor.

We stare in dismay at your lifeless body,

I mutter your requiem,

As it shares a melody with the silence.

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. 

It's Funny, Isn't It?

It's funny isn't it

How effortlessly one can take a blade

Run it across their skin

Puncture the very thing that keeps them whole

Over and over again 

Until all pain is gone

  Until all the blood is drained

               Until they are numb

                             Until the next time.

It's funny how such a simple action can become

         a dangerous addition

                     A ravenous craving

    An unconscious compulsion;

                                                                                                                 An addiction not easily overcome.

It's funny how such a simple act on oneself can hurt so many others

Cause so much pain to their friends

                To their boyfriend or girlfriend

                                                                                To their family.

It's funny how all of the pain it releases is brought back

not long afterwards.

Funny isn't it.

But I ask,

Is all of this worth it?

They say no.

I say…

I'm sorry.

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. 

Bleeding

Tears rain down, staining my shirt a crimson red.

Like a waterfall of agony, it drowns me.

I lay silently, suffering in my bed.

The tears won’t clot, I’m lost in my ruby sea.

Each burgundy tear slides down my pale frame,

Causing my skins subtle twitching.