captain anarchy
3rd January 2004, 06:16
Fuck you
The final act now will begin.
Now the blade slices through my skin.
As blood spills on my hands.
For my life death demands.
Now I know you no longer care.
Now through my flesh the blade does tear.
If I don’t answer when you go to call.
Know it’s because of you that I now end it all.
Years of hell
I sit in the dark and listen to the cure sing of how boys don’t cry.
If that were true than why each night do tears roll down my face as inside I die?
People say its how your body and mind let things go.
If it’s trying to let things go then why does it seem to linger and tear away so slow?
I wonder why do I now try to release all the strife.
I’ve suffered with it all eighteen years of my life.
Inside there’s still there little kid who’s been beaten and wasn’t breathing when he was born.
Now slowly through my tears that trauma is being torn.
Last words of a self liberator
So much grief and sorrow is the contents of my melancholic mind. To the extent of hurt they are so blind. As the ropes suppressing the suicidal urges start to unwind, I can only think of one person who has truly been kind. I now know that is something that never again shall I find. Now all I can think of is the mourning of that soul caused by me leaving it behind. My life has sucked with it’s bending and it’s twists. I can see the results of that when I look at my wrist. My happiness now faded. With a large dose of suicide it’s been sedated. There is only one person to whom I felt love. If that person is reading this please know that you were what my final thoughts consisted of. If you are a person to whom I told of my misery, please don’t hold this against me and have sympathy. Now that my suicidal urges have been fed. You now see me lying here dead.
Crest of cold tears
Melancholy has brand its crest of cold tears on me.
I open my eyes but darkness is all I see.
In death’s bed I have lain.
All the time I feel pain.
But yet I still love like the sweet Aphrodite.
And inside the dying me is a tragic sight.
So inside I die. And I lay here wondering why.
Living while dead
If you’ve taken note of the things I have said.
You’d realize I’m not alive, I’m already dead.
I physically exist but that bit of life’s dangling by a thread.
Everyday on the inside and out I have bled.
The blood that came out was a nice shade of red.
The thought of dieing runs through my head.
I look at the amount of blood that I shed and continued to hurt as I lay on my bed.
Waste
I sit as my mind slowly drifts away.
But all the fucked up things still stay.
Every day inside I hurt.
I always wanted to be like Kurt.
Drugs will always ease the pain.
But it all will still remain.
Blood drains to take away pains.
But every day it’s so insane.
Why must it all still remain?
Kiss of the black rose
Like the smoke from my cigarette I’m as light as the air.
I speak to you but the words pass through you as if I’m not even there.
I sit in the corner and cry with a dead blank stare. My eyeliner starts to run down my face but I don’t even care.
I scream and cry for the death of my heart.
I wish my life and me would finally part.
those are only a few of my morbid poems about how much i hurt inside. please don't give me the reply that most do of just kill your self and be done with it cause i've tried and didn't suceed. i need some positive support and understanding and help cause i still hurt and need all the help i can get to stay alive for my fiancee's sake i could care less if i live or die.
The final act now will begin.
Now the blade slices through my skin.
As blood spills on my hands.
For my life death demands.
Now I know you no longer care.
Now through my flesh the blade does tear.
If I don’t answer when you go to call.
Know it’s because of you that I now end it all.
Years of hell
I sit in the dark and listen to the cure sing of how boys don’t cry.
If that were true than why each night do tears roll down my face as inside I die?
People say its how your body and mind let things go.
If it’s trying to let things go then why does it seem to linger and tear away so slow?
I wonder why do I now try to release all the strife.
I’ve suffered with it all eighteen years of my life.
Inside there’s still there little kid who’s been beaten and wasn’t breathing when he was born.
Now slowly through my tears that trauma is being torn.
Last words of a self liberator
So much grief and sorrow is the contents of my melancholic mind. To the extent of hurt they are so blind. As the ropes suppressing the suicidal urges start to unwind, I can only think of one person who has truly been kind. I now know that is something that never again shall I find. Now all I can think of is the mourning of that soul caused by me leaving it behind. My life has sucked with it’s bending and it’s twists. I can see the results of that when I look at my wrist. My happiness now faded. With a large dose of suicide it’s been sedated. There is only one person to whom I felt love. If that person is reading this please know that you were what my final thoughts consisted of. If you are a person to whom I told of my misery, please don’t hold this against me and have sympathy. Now that my suicidal urges have been fed. You now see me lying here dead.
Crest of cold tears
Melancholy has brand its crest of cold tears on me.
I open my eyes but darkness is all I see.
In death’s bed I have lain.
All the time I feel pain.
But yet I still love like the sweet Aphrodite.
And inside the dying me is a tragic sight.
So inside I die. And I lay here wondering why.
Living while dead
If you’ve taken note of the things I have said.
You’d realize I’m not alive, I’m already dead.
I physically exist but that bit of life’s dangling by a thread.
Everyday on the inside and out I have bled.
The blood that came out was a nice shade of red.
The thought of dieing runs through my head.
I look at the amount of blood that I shed and continued to hurt as I lay on my bed.
Waste
I sit as my mind slowly drifts away.
But all the fucked up things still stay.
Every day inside I hurt.
I always wanted to be like Kurt.
Drugs will always ease the pain.
But it all will still remain.
Blood drains to take away pains.
But every day it’s so insane.
Why must it all still remain?
Kiss of the black rose
Like the smoke from my cigarette I’m as light as the air.
I speak to you but the words pass through you as if I’m not even there.
I sit in the corner and cry with a dead blank stare. My eyeliner starts to run down my face but I don’t even care.
I scream and cry for the death of my heart.
I wish my life and me would finally part.
those are only a few of my morbid poems about how much i hurt inside. please don't give me the reply that most do of just kill your self and be done with it cause i've tried and didn't suceed. i need some positive support and understanding and help cause i still hurt and need all the help i can get to stay alive for my fiancee's sake i could care less if i live or die.