dead or alive?Oh how i long to be granted a sympathetic kissfrom an angel with the wings of perfection.This silent pain rots inside me like a plaguedmaelstrom.I look at these pills that have been turnedinto ashes by the remorseless sun. So whatam i to do when the noose gets tighter as I hangin the desolate wishing well.My thoughts become thorns seeping deeper untilI bleed the temperature of zero. I wish i couldjust let the blood of mine escape into a whirlwindthat leads to an eternal peace, for this would healmy heart permanently.If i were to let my heart thaw out for a few yearsI don't think this would melt the frost that hasbeen installed in me. Every time i sob my tears turnto icicles and I scream as they seep back inside my skin.
Death wish ungrantedThe burning flakes from my lips can'tstand to look in my mirror made ofsour milk webs. I am the silver riverthat has been infected with rust andI cannot help but feel unattractive.The guardian of my soul should have nevercreated me out of a children's carouselthat had been permanently stained witha sludge like substance. My tongue andlips burn from everyone I've ever kissedwithout pure intentions.My face has lost it's warmth and vitality fromall of the bitter tears that always seem to find it'sway back into my psyche. My emotions havebeen through far too many medical procedures.So now i still find myself in the lobby ofmy own hell with no comfort or guidance withthe burden of my melted heart leaking throughthe slits in my throat.
The anatomy of a thorned heartLust and grief consumes my entire being asI awake, thy kiss from an angel would leadmy psyche to the right place.My heart is infected with blackness releasing ashesthat will taste bitter and profound to the world.If you taste my ashes and close your eyes youwill see all of my memories of loneliness.I have grown ravenous for affection as I've dwelled fordecades in this brooding cave. I await for thee toembrace my heart that drowns in desolation andblack dreams.Thy key to comfort seems oh so surreal. Whowill be the one to take my hand and kiss my scars?
Heartache and self inflictionThese mere white walls are as hollow as we, withdeep scratches that will never erase like our scars.Carbon copy halls are as wide as our wounds of self infliction.Were forced to form in a single file as our heads laylow, for it was all of our suicides that had beenunfulfilled. I pass by these screaming children longingfor home, they are strapped to a table with the starefrom preternatural clones.I whisper to myself death old friend where are you now to takeme away from this darkest hour. We are like the palest of corpsestrapped in the locked gates of a cemetary. I loath sharinga room with these half dead teenagers that remind me of myself.I'm trapped here on the the special day of love. Everyoneis carving into there skin a message, as well as cutting theshape of a heart from there dripping flesh for a beloved thathas put a hex on them.
Condemned by the godsAs i walk the city streets of disapproval my disgracefulfootsteps seem to always dishearten the gods senses.I cannot blame the scorn from the celestial sky forI have the imperfect past and present that has harmedit with blight.It has now become too unbearable to know theonly things awaiting for me are the deep scratchesI've engraved on my wall, and the tears I've wastedaway on my death shroud for sheets.My gaunt lifeless wrists are covered with my own crimsonblood that has rotted and formed into the texture of regretand depression.I have now come to the realization that i amnot worth the time for the beautiful ones and am too unworthyto inhale the warm essence of a comforting reality.
The future of a hollow realityI have grown for some time now to despise theconventional masses, with their mechanical ideals,and the absence of any profound words of sincerityor compassion.What scratches the scabs in my mind are the ones withoutcharacter or a emotion that seem to brush off their calamitieswhile preaching to the infected. My thoughts become diseasedneedles of self infliction as i see these temptresses exposingtheir flawless features yielding the desire of irresistibletemptation.So what makes you think your a goddess by any means? You wouldrather breaks hearts than to heal. I fail every time to cannotcomprehend why you would give your soul and praise to the onesthat mistreat you and value you only as their next trophyof impure intentions.
My soul rots of banalityWhat could you say to keep me from my apathy formy death that stands closer each day? Would youattend my funeral tomorrow? Or would you justleave it as another one of your forgotten days?How many times must i suffer to get this treasurethat the dreadful seem to own but with littlesatisfaction. For years my sternum has now keptmy soul hostage. No one can reach me nor save mefrom my defected mind that perfects it's way throughan agonizing cycle.Each lonely night i lay curling up like the unbornwith the clenching of my teeth while closing my eyesas each unbearable teardrop chills my flesh to ice. So for now I can only just pray for a gateway to asanctuary of dreams where it reveals the symphonyof a silence.
Beautiful perception grantedYour Lips of sweetness and delicacy was the elixarto my soul, crushing the thorns of agony that injectedmy heart with only hurt and desolation. Those spellbindingglances between you and I entwined into an enchantingsymphony that brought a thousand chills down my spine.The caress of your flawless fingertips rendered meforgetful of the times i felt deprived of a comforting mortality.I now feel a rejuvenation that has broken the cycleof my self pity which has grinded my flesh to the verybone.I once found my slumber to be my only escape,but now i find it to be insignificant compared to thisnight, for it is you who has brought me back to life.