Orange..
That familiar orange bottle,
tiny script,
white top,
"Press down and twist,"
it coaxes me.
press,
twist,
pop!
They look like grains of sand within,
each identical to the next.
White,
like the top.
How many today I ask,
the bottle replies,
"Take 1 tablet by mouth five times daily."
Five.
What a haunting number.
Why couldn't it have been three?
I sigh dry tears,
I throw the bottle,
only to have it roll back at me.
Each reaction has a equal and opposite reaction,
I begin to understand.
I shake the little orange bottle,
pour far too many into my hand,
then pour all but five back in.
"My reaction." I whisper to
Hate me.
Leave red crescent moons,
Tattooed across my skin,
Let me scramble blindly,
In the dark,
Greeted by your hands,
Embracing my throat.
Make me see the stars,
Until you pull me back down,
Down,
Down,
To you.
Caress me into aching,
Desperation,
Until my reality evaporates,
And I'm left shattered in your arms.
Tearing,
The tearing of a hole in me,
The departing,
The waning,
The exhalation of existence,
Into something less familiar,
Something painful,
The dropping of a wet darkness from my chest,
Choosing a silent submission,
Over my jaded existence.
My resistance,
My desire,
Won't let me go,
Decisions and resolve,
Dissolving in my mouth.
No,
I don't understand this,
No,
This dripping,
Trickling down,
I don't want it,
I beat a hole into myself,
So that I can drain you out,
I beat myself into this silent submission,
Into regret,
When all I wanted was to be jaded…
I can't go away any farther by kittidna, literature
Literature
I can't go away any farther
You tell me to walk away,
Away from you,
So much father than before,
Running out of places,
Out of silent refuge to kill myself,
Sitting in cold darkness,
Left hand only burning.
I shut my eyes to breathe,
And I still see the glow,
I still see,
smoke.
I'm begging it to last one more,
just one more song.
Before I reach the end,
Before I cut down the nub.
Desperate,
One more?
Just one more?
Ashes to ashes...
Its already done.
Silently destroying myself by kittidna, literature
Literature
Silently destroying myself
I'm resting right in front of you,
Before your damned judging eyes,
Silently,
Destroying myself,
Right in front of you.
You might see me,
Silent as I am,
You might be so fooled,
That you don't see me,
You don't see me,
Silently destroying everything I am,
Why is it always so easy for you?
Turn away,
I'm dying,
Burning slowly around the edges,
Until I'm completely gone,
Why is it always so easy for you?
Turning away,
To let things take care of themselves,
I'm left to clutch the air.
Left watching all of me breathe out,
And not come back in,
When you turn back around,
When you turn back around,
I won't be here.
Its so s
my inner child of homicide by john2dope, literature
Literature
my inner child of homicide
What is it that overcomes me when I hide behind a smile*.
What is it deep inside me that makes me homicidal*.
It's stagnant* its poignant*, each fragment* I owned it.* I chose it* I composed it.* I'll leave it* after I deceived it* Then grabbed it* I stabbed it* I had it* I owned it* I lost it* I burned it* I took your own impressions and turned it*.
A different mask* comes for a different task* I'm so sadistic sometimes you wouldn't even wanna ask* how much I'd appreciate it if you would kiss the curb so I could leave the back of your head bashed*
When deep down underneath*, I wanna leave you bleeding, screaming, and spitting out your o
Its been 2 weeks since I left. And its beginning to feel like the last 5 years never happened. Ridiculous? Yes. But I can't do this. Why is it fair that we aren't connected in any way? Why is it fair that I carry his picture around while he doesn't not even notice absence? I hate. I hate this. Not fair comes to mind. None of this. Don't like not being good enough. Don't like being too old. Too old for this, that. Jaded. Too jaded. Lonely for friends I chased away. Finding out no one can just run away to Disney Land. Hurts, with no where to go. Can't move forward or back. Why is that .. creature comforts are to be found when ailments of the he
So its my first time writing in this thing here.. been a long time since I've really put up anything in a while. Been here for years too, so I guess I really should try to scrap together some resolve and put crap up.
Life has just been getting in the way I suppose.
Its hard to do things when you have to keep thinking about debt and lost loves, dread of getting older without anything to show for it. Really what do I have to show for it?
I wonder if its been through bad luck or some suppressed urge to lose the amount that I have. Or maybe just through lack of trying. Either way, long way to go I suppose.
Still, there is art, I have all of m
I'm deleting my account tonight, and thought you'd want to know. I'm "getvalentined" basically everywhere online, so if you want to find me I'm out there. Love you, Kohaku. Be well out there.