depression plagues the portraits of our essences
How horrible my heart breaks..
In a general sort of shattering.
The blood stained floor means nothing to me,
It's the scars that endlessly torment me.
My insides turned out somehow,
To show what my life has really been about.
Pain,
You get what you give.
Pain,
Isn't good enough of a reason
to live?
Drop don't drip the seams of my being seem to stretch and rip.
Can I take it anymore?
The sore broken beaten heart,
Kicked, torn, bloody still beats.
For how much longer can I take it?
Before the pulsing thins to a soft lullaby, whisking me to a less bitter loneliness.
Do you know how it feels to be so loveless
it's an ode to my depressing art of... depressing writing?
I wrote another poem today, more mushy, romantic.... somewhat of an idea based off of romeo and juliet... but sprung from my heart, about what i feel.
Faintly, I feel you faintly feeling
Why is it that I'm insanely falling
I cannot grasp what has not reached out for me
Still my fingertips graize the sweet essence of what i dream
What has my heart given me?
A plague so grieved, my heart leaks, bleeds into my every word.
Slowly, eating away at the marrow to my bones, numbing my pain in its own plague.
I savour, I slave for words dripping with an ounce of affection
I feel it, the veins pulsing my paining pleasure
Since thou hast touched thee, thou skin has not been purely clean
For thou to love thee, thee skin would dare to be unseen
Unworthy of thous love, thy heart....
What does this mean?
In a general sort of shattering.
The blood stained floor means nothing to me,
It's the scars that endlessly torment me.
My insides turned out somehow,
To show what my life has really been about.
Pain,
You get what you give.
Pain,
Isn't good enough of a reason
to live?
Drop don't drip the seams of my being seem to stretch and rip.
Can I take it anymore?
The sore broken beaten heart,
Kicked, torn, bloody still beats.
For how much longer can I take it?
Before the pulsing thins to a soft lullaby, whisking me to a less bitter loneliness.
Do you know how it feels to be so loveless
it's an ode to my depressing art of... depressing writing?
I wrote another poem today, more mushy, romantic.... somewhat of an idea based off of romeo and juliet... but sprung from my heart, about what i feel.
Faintly, I feel you faintly feeling
Why is it that I'm insanely falling
I cannot grasp what has not reached out for me
Still my fingertips graize the sweet essence of what i dream
What has my heart given me?
A plague so grieved, my heart leaks, bleeds into my every word.
Slowly, eating away at the marrow to my bones, numbing my pain in its own plague.
I savour, I slave for words dripping with an ounce of affection
I feel it, the veins pulsing my paining pleasure
Since thou hast touched thee, thou skin has not been purely clean
For thou to love thee, thee skin would dare to be unseen
Unworthy of thous love, thy heart....
What does this mean?