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Literature Text
when did your love become a ball and chain holding me here?
let go of me,
curl your clutching fingers around the children still within your reach.
your grip is a stranglehold,
guilt the threshold cementing my feet.
the smell of burning flesh chafes down my throat like a cotton rope,
and red crawls my skin
but its not enough anymore.
i can't stop the wildfire burning down the forest in my head.
there is something burning in me.
but it can't touch the voice.
the untouchable god-of-my-head who swears and screams and beats its fists of names and memories
into the mush behind my eyes until my tongue spits black and blue
you'reworthlessworthlessworthlessworthless.
my breath is is becoming a highway for all the words i could never say,
and my voicebox is an unopened giftbox adressed to the sender.
my sadness is a lover i cannot stop returning to,
and my feet keep falling into all the same cracks.
relapse.
recover.
repeat.
habits like the tide, forever set to return
like the turn of seasons,
or the inevitable wear of time.
my selfhate is a dog that just won't die.
the demons in my head are the monsters beneath my bed,
the memories that just won't leave me alone.
let go of me,
curl your clutching fingers around the children still within your reach.
your grip is a stranglehold,
guilt the threshold cementing my feet.
the smell of burning flesh chafes down my throat like a cotton rope,
and red crawls my skin
but its not enough anymore.
i can't stop the wildfire burning down the forest in my head.
there is something burning in me.
but it can't touch the voice.
the untouchable god-of-my-head who swears and screams and beats its fists of names and memories
into the mush behind my eyes until my tongue spits black and blue
you'reworthlessworthlessworthlessworthless.
my breath is is becoming a highway for all the words i could never say,
and my voicebox is an unopened giftbox adressed to the sender.
my sadness is a lover i cannot stop returning to,
and my feet keep falling into all the same cracks.
relapse.
recover.
repeat.
habits like the tide, forever set to return
like the turn of seasons,
or the inevitable wear of time.
my selfhate is a dog that just won't die.
the demons in my head are the monsters beneath my bed,
the memories that just won't leave me alone.
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i'm done for awhile. i need some time, so i might not be very active on here. my writings gone to crap. deppressing as hell. i'm depressed as hell.
i need out.
i want to let go of everything,
but they've tied my hands with pretty little words.
(i swear i wasn't born sad))
i need out.
i want to let go of everything,
but they've tied my hands with pretty little words.
(i swear i wasn't born sad))
© 2012 - 2024 arabesque-o
Comments18
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this is gorgeous and heartbreaking.
I hope you'll be okay one day soon.
I hope you'll be okay one day soon.