In My Mind

In the mind of the normal:

A razor is meant to shave with.

A bottle of pills is meant to be stored up high.

A bridge is meant to be walked across.

A bathtub full of water is meant to be jumped into.

A full plate is meant to be eaten.

A passing train in meant to be waved at.

A rope is meant to hold a piñata.

In the mind of the empty:

A razor is meant to numb the pain.

A bottle of pills is meant to be swallowed.

A bridge is meant to be jumped off of.

A bathtub full of water is meant to hold a breathless body.

A full plate is meant to be thrown away.

A passing train in meant to be walked in front of.

A rope is meant to become a noose.

In the mind of the artist:

A razor is meant to intrigue.

A bottle of pills is meant to numb the mind.

A bridge is meant to be over water.

A bathtub full of water is meant to be still.

A full plate is meant to be overwhelming.

A passing train in meant to be lit up.

A rope is meant to hold up my hope.

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. 

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.

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.