lunaticofsilence

I want to live. I want to live so bad. I want to live to see the day we're healed. I want to live to see the day we're happy. I want to live to see the day we're okay. I want to hold onto hope and hug pain until pain can feel love. How do I piece together the thoughts in my battered brain? Please, someone tell me it's not my fault my mind is this way, so I won't blame myself every second of every day. I beat myself up and fight myself because I believe if I fight hard enough I can fly. And I want be brave, brave enough to bear the days and bare my soul even if I can't explain why I feel this pain. I want to live to see the ending. I wan

I'm tired of leaving corpses in the shapes of words for people to find in place of my body. This body, I am so afraid of losing. I'm afraid of putting into words all the things that are continually dying and living inside of me. I write about death like I understand what it means. Sometimes I think you can only understand death if you die, but I'm alive and I still don't understand life. I understand haunting, and feeling phantom pain that isn't anymore real than my fading identity. I understand searching for myself in other souls and echoing the words they utter because they sound so beautiful, and some nights I can't hear my own tears fal

If I drown in illusion will my death be a lie? If I drown in silence will my suffocation scream for me? I'm sorry; the number you never reached was never in service. I'm sorry; I am sorry I am sorry I am I I'm sorry I am I I'm sorry; the numb you are feeling is not a feeling because numb is the absence of (I can't stop) I can not stop I can not I can I Be still Do you hear the angels talking through the static? Be still. Do you hear the angels too? Be still. Do you hear the sound of starlight in your sufforcation?

I have been rereading a single page front to back from a book of poetry for at least half an hour, but I still am not sure what I'm reading. I believe it's good for me to read things I don't understand. Good for the soul possibly confidence crushing. Sometimes, we choose what we save. While walking home in the rain, I dissolved into chaos. I thought "This storm is caused by me. It is raining and my books are getting soggy because I've deformed every definition in the dictionary, and redefined reality." Perhaps, God is pleased. Perhaps he sent us here to twist the truth into lies like the life we li(v)e. Sometimes, we sacrifice because we

Haunt me Haunt me like the moon The glowing ghost face in the sky My guardian ghoul The facade has slipped away Not a vestige left of the vessel of a poet All I am All I ever was Is a mystery to me I'm done trying to make my words pretty Into poetry Let them tumble as they may Like the seeds of weeds in spring Bloowing in the breeze Drifting endlessly Like dandelion seeds Wished on by those who put their hope in simple things Does it really matter if anyone's listening Every mask in this masquerade Is losing its shape Its form How was this darkness born From light Cradled by the night Let the cries of those Locked in silence Be your lull

I have smelt this smell... ((Olfactory déjà vu)) In a midnight dream. The smell of static. The sound of disconnection. Taste the emptiness. You will return to... Like the waves return to shore the love that formed you. Wind inside your Mind. Green trees swaying in reverse. Time to walk backwards. You never grew old You grew into golden corn an endless cornfield. Lizard tail twitching. Like your eye when you need sleep. Lizard left his tail. Lizard tail twitching Like your severed sentences. You will grow again.