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hate when I want to write openly about a subject but can't find the words as to not offend anyone.





I support trash.





The People who if realized their self worth wouldn't put them selves through so many self induced obstacles.





The people who have the nerve to show me wounds upon their wrists.





*How am I supposed to react to that?*





I am left to wonder what has happened to these people to make them act this way. I feel as though I have went through one of the worst kinds of pain and I do not share their same problems.





I believe the difference is I had no choice in the matter.





I am to be offended by these fakes!





What sadness do you know if it's brought upon yourself?





What nothing do they morn for?





Instead I sit quietly.





My thoughts conflict with my words.





It's enough not to want to speak again.





Am I the sane among idiots?





And again but different, my thoughts conflict with my actions.





It's almost enough to not want to move again.





And what do I morn for?





My loss of sanity ?





It seems so much greater than that.





It's so hard to convey the things you understand in your mind.





To make my words as strong as my emotions.





How alone do I have to feel to fit in?





I think I got that backwards





How much do I have to convince myself I am loved to fit in.





A joke among the unloving .





A description of the world.





I crave to live forever yet I am disappointed with my life.





And the tears I've had have lessened.





I can't stand that slowly but surely I will be accustomed to ignoring my better judgment.





It's inevitable if I am the only one who thinks as I do.





Like I said I support trash.

Your voice echoed deep in my memories



Dirt engraved into my dry hands



The song should have never ended



To spite my fears I sat alone in the dark



My back falling to the earth



And all I could think of was your fingertips on my neck



I laid there naked



How could i get lost in false thoughts of you



My fingers split



And I watched my blood float towards a spider web



Forming with the lines above



They became my own



A web of lust



I then felt how stripped down i was



Slightly Frightened



But all the while I wanted you next to me



Watching me fall apart



To see me squirm awkwardly in my own blood



Come back to my fingers now



Waiting ansiously in a straightjacket

COMMENTS

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Neinmortlan
23:09 Apr 23 2016

these would make great lyrics

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POST COMMENT

The sun, producer of everything beautiful



But I do not feel that way



Revealing myself, my imperfections



Feeding to the eternal flames of Gehenna and Hell



Yet for others in the light they become knew



Pasting smiles on their faces



All the while lying and cheating



I can't escape what scorches my skin



Hiding, it peers and creeps through my blinds



As for the fake it burns their outsides



A reflection of what's within



And I sit and think of the looming death in those places



And I wish I could heal them, wipe the blood from their hands, and take their sin



Passing it to the most holy of water



Turning my head only to see my reflection in red



Slamming my fists in disgust



And leaving God's water to dust



As he is left to pick up in grain the particles of hurt



Like razor blades to his fingers



He would feel the pain of those forgotten



We are the nephilim



Not really destroyed, living to torture each other, and seeking approval from one another



But that is our way



And those who live for the promise of everlasting life in happiness



Don't understand the need for sadness



The want we all have hidden inside when in our lonesome



Self-piety and false self-worth



Leading to our own hearts fallen



And under the underneath of it all....



We love it, we crave it, we put out selves in the way of it



And those who live for the promise of everlasting life in happiness



Fulfill non dramatic lives



Only trying not to think of what they missed



A thought made up to give us structure



But from the begining they failed



And we have decided to take the blame



To correct a mistake we had nothing to do with



And for that I find those who fallow Stupid



And those who make war over written words and kill in the name of God Stupid



At this point I fall into place with being tormented by the thought of a thought that may be true



Then night falls and I am cooled



My mind belonging to my self