Tag Archives: sad

Cyclothymia –


I wake up to an epiphany everyday, buzzing with thoughts, high on adrenaline.

Catapulted into the stratosphere with nothing more than a basket of dreams and tears of fear.

There is no come down from this everlasting nightmare.

The switch is neither on or off the fuse is merely pulsating to the beat of dread.

Desperately willing to cut the cord, hoping for nature to break my fall.

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The ground has cracked


Today the ground cracked

I slipped into it unaware

Today the ground cracked

And I fell at it’s mercy

Today I fell into death.

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FEAR


I’m consumed by a darkness that embraces me like nothing else. Bruised black and blue beaten daily by my own intrusive thoughts. Constantly assessing and obsessing over unnecessary predicaments associated with a constant irrational itch seeded deep within a locked down subliminal state, a storm so violent my very core trembles with each beat. I cry wolf every chance I can get. This fear is real it has eaten me whole I can’t seem to escape it I just fucking hate it. I long for a break within the storm clouds, but with each time the storm calms I brace for a return, fearing that this time my soul will never come home, an empty structure that moves with the wind, a beacon of fear staring deep into the dark.

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Work….


He wanted nothing more than an escape, his grip on reality was slipping. His days merging into total chaos, like a whirlwind sucking him into a dark abyss.

It was Sunday night, his stomach was in knots. Another day of typing, another day sat in a room filled with fluorescent light and the sounds of people selling their souls and drowning in thoughts of horror.

“five days…Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thur….Fri….” he punches the mirror, he can’t even look at himself. Looking down at his numb fist he watched the crimson flow drip slowly into the sink “I need to escape, start again…I need my life back” he opened the bathroom door, his flat was small and in sheer disrepair. His lounge was his bedroom and also his kitchen it consisted of a singular cupboard with a microwave on top and a single mattress on bare floorboards covered in stains. It was dark and damp. The smell of death was ever present and despite several complaints to his landlord, it fell on deaf ears.

He lay down on his bed and tuned his radio to BBC radio five live as always. He felt hungry, his lips were dry and his eyes stinging from a constant migraine that never seemed to stop. He always had the radio on whilst he slept, it drowned out his thoughts and made him feel safe in the darkness. Secretly he enjoyed listening to other people’s woes, with Stephen Nolan asking “outside the box questions” in a cut throat manor. Tonight was no different to any other Sunday night, he closed his eyes laying naked on his bed. It was cold, goosebumps spread down his skinny Mal nourished body.

“I’m fed up of today’s society Stephen, Snow flakes…that is all they are. In my day I would work fifteen hours straight Monday to Saturday, I had six kids to feed and was paid £10.00 a month. Now tell me how that is fair?” The radio presenter took a long pause…”your pathetic you work nine to five Monday to Friday earning £1000 per month…and you say you can’t do it? You really are a worthless creep and you don’t deserve any better because your not capable of earning it” He took another pause “this gent is right you have to work hard and do what you need to do to live and that is it”.

The room began to spin as he opened his eyes he could see nothing but blackness, the radio was talking to him again…”do the right thing Micheal we know you are listening to us, do the right thing and contribute to our great Britain, you cannot and will not defy us. Work is the only way out. Work until you can no longer work, then you can die.

“What do you want from me…I can’t do this you can’t control me I’m a human being I’m alive…” He picked up the radio and in a blind rage threw it across the room, the sound of intermittent static filled the room…”hahaha your alive because we allow you to be alive….you work for us we own you. You will work for us until you die and there’s nothing you can do about it.

He stood up, he struggled with his balance walking towards the window, he knew how to finally escape. He climbed upon his window sill, his vision still blurry and dizzy. The room fell silent the radio was smashed to bits. He turned his head to take one last look. The cold wind penetrated his flesh, he turned to look back at what he was leaving behind.

“Fuck it….”.

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Dissasociation


Her crimson eyes told me to hear her

this displacement this corruption

I didn’t know this was going to happen

I didn’t know this was going to happen  

I fled in fear Heading straight to the pier

I see nothing but sheer disconnection 

No intention for ever loving me

 

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Stop (something i stumbled upon…)


 

If I close my eyes I see nothing but black, when I open my eyes I’m presented with the middle finger from a world that doesn’t give a fuck. Only the best man knows the secrets of a life without a fist up his crack. Puppet master oh puppet master grant me one wish I plead remove your tightly clenched fist from my rectum I insist don’t stare me down don’t call my bluff just release me from this world that gives no fuck.
In return I shall prosper until my card is called a lifetime released from this truly lethal decree. Spared from the words of our keeper prepared and aware of a lapse in your promise. I and only I shall hide within the woodwork listening to the brass clockwork tick and then and then stop.

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