A nobody once said

To be misunderstood is to find health

Among the sick and cursed

But he had to say it to nobody

So it wasn’t advice as much as it was

Reassurance

Nothing but a dream

My reality is a light speck of dirt

Flowing down Osiris’s stream

I wake up to heavy thoughts

Yet the surprise of them recurring astonishes

me every time like an infant loss in a game of peek a boo

I know the pain your in

Feeling so fragile you don’t even want to scratch your skin

Body like a paper lantern, delicate and thin

Burning flame for a soul

exhausting reserves of optimism

but don’t you dare say you will never win

the battle has just started no matter how thin

the walls of your sanity or lengthy your past of sin

no matter your age or how large the hole

your broken heart left after crumbling under the weight of cynicism



I been in and out of psychiatric hospitals most of my life. It is relaxing being around humans who can or have to admit to being totally lost/broken. I often find myself being overly positive for them in ways I don’t even for myself.

Gratitude

Even though they have stopped hounding me

I hear their haunting jeers echoing in my mind

But to be haunted is to never be alone

So for that, I have gratitude


Because thanksgiving is tomorrow. Never liked holidays though

I was raised by wolves

Everyone believed themselves to be the pack leader

But all were just lining up to a feeder

Loyalty and sacrifice were taught side by side

But going against the pack was risking my life

Not by foreign devils

But the same ones I pledged allegiance to

I got everything I ever wanted

I often forget that fact

In fact, my mind rots

while thinking over my spoiled spoils

let’s take a stroll down memory lane:

An opportunity at a Prestigious nuthouse

masquerading as a top 10 college;

earned a 70k a year dollar job

that employed esteem killers;

found a lover with enough love to be felt

miles away—

Left her sobbing in tears that still ring in my ears

I can keep asking god for more

But what the fuck is the point

Razorblade to the skin

The warm river of the veins

Far from the edge

It’s a habit

Relief from my habitat

Cause my thoughts are rabid rabbits

Humping to make worse little thoughts

Like a jigsaw puzzle, I piece them all together

So chaos reigns until the blood

Drip, drip, drips

Milky white eyes

Horns and animalistic flesh

The devil is in the details

But who is writing the literature

If Lucifer reigns on this plane

Then who you abuse or arouse

While you accuse of being demonic

Is an act of carnal obedience

To the fallen one


I dislike judgmental people but that is a paradox because that is a judgment. Therefore I say if you are good than be good in times of stress or peace.

I need to go back

There is no future to skip towards

Because of butchered memories

Chopped and scattered

black spots censoring clarity

like a classified document passed around

All leading me to dead ends

And the bends as I ascend from the depths