azurescens

The rain drips down as if the sky is falling, and it really is. It's only fitting to be soaked through my bones.

My mind is melting and running down my face in streaks of watermelon.

The street i live on and stumble over turns to green and pink smudges in the shape of my bare foot prints to show people where i've been and where i'm headed.

My mind is getting weaker, my tolerance stronger.

The pain is as intense as losing the person you love most, like a fucking dagger being stabbed in ten places at once and spun, spun the fuck out again.

The deeper i go into myself the more shallow it all seems.

Things i try to do are blocked by cement barricades stating "avoid heavy penalty".

What would you do for the person you love? the PEOPLE you love?

This... Girl, yeah you... our lives collided like two missles headed for nowhere. We are 2 missles headed for nowhere, no plans, no actions, no strength to overcome our opposition.

i just want to say fuck it all, collapse next to you, feel your warmth (because it is the only warmth i know) and absorb your energy. synthetic and natural.

The same perpetrator is taking over my life to the point where I cannot control it anymore. I feel like i am killing myself, slowly, like it should be.

What is the point of death if it isn't painful? You should have to earn it, feel every second, to appreciate your life you "lead".

What am i leading right now? The search for the things that make me happy leads me down streets with the signs written in french, down back roads and farmland where the farmers are probably not kind.

All of this to get to a piece of unguarded concrete where she will wait. wait for my fucking return. AGAIN.



My veins are hot. My blood is like FIRE. my brain is fucking boiling. hallucinations cannot even help me now.



The things i love and want are always ripped from my hands, fingernails and all-gone. the pain doesn't even affect me anymore because it's been so intense for so long.

I'm not happy kids. i'm just pretending. i would make a good actor, but wouldn't we all? as we all act our major parts in our own little fucking dramas? just for it to end with things we wanted to do, didn't do, thought about doing... imagined.



the restraints on my arms and the shackles on my legs cannot be seen, but they will always remain. they dig into my flesh and rip it, tear it into scars on top of scars with scabs that will never heal.

Politically, Socially, Morally, Kindly, i'm signing out for the moment.

Apathy your name is the exact opposite of what radiates from you.