I fear
But I can't speak
My throat tied in the most innocent way
Maybe I'm hanging like this for a reason or maybe just maybe...

Time passes steadily on like always devided by the red lines
Warm and moist seeping out
Like tender pearls of hurt and happiness i see them
Dry and hard
The crust on my soul I try to pick away gives a goal to the pain
It keeps me from destroying myself as I slolwy descend
Faded and soft
Like a ghost
Like me
I mask the things I feel
Fading
The pathetic and irrational
They make me weak
I will show them
I will prove them all wrong
I would be great but look at me now
My invisible corpse descends into madness
My ghostly state

The tears are worse than the blood
The glass
The sight of liquid pain
The fake kind
The real wounds are the ones within the ribcage that stab through your soul
The glass
The bottle deep inside
Me shield
Eyes healed shut, my only wish
My windows sewn closed to keep me from harm
An end to the suffering
A gateway out of this broken world
Broken like
Glass
The cuts stab through to my soul

The filthy blade
Enchanting
How can one simple object be so...
Perfect
Danger Beauty Power
Forged in the depths of my mind to slice through any pleasant wisp with its dark magic
Its sharpness mesmerizes me even when i can't have the pleasure of being torn apart by its edge
Crooked in spirit yet so straight

It's strange to think about your death
I wonder how I'd like to go
I used to wish to pass of old age
Simply wither away after a good life
Not anymore
How poetic to find the strength or weakness take one's own life
To be stabbed
I wonder how it feels
The final moments before you slip beyond
To play with death
I must know
Test it on a thousand before i find one like me

Is this wrong?
When did it become wrong?
How can i be so different now?
I never agreed to this
I was weak
I enjoyed it
It was bliss to stay in a box of light
Now I scavenge for darkness and gore
Endurance
I test my resistance
The army of voices that control my flesh suit
A social experiment
How much can the take?

I acknowledge the sickness of the statements I have made
I have stopped caring
I have stopped trying
Maybe that is the true final step into insanity
When I embrace the haze of warm red
© A_Human_Bean