This World

Helpless we face mis-conceptions,
with no ground beneath us.
The pain of life dulls,
as you regard it as normality.
The happiness you once felt,
is crushed by dreams un-found.
Any good in you, a distant memory,
a memory of what was once innocence.
There’s little point fighting it;
this world.

The moment you begin to believe it may not be so bad,
and that justice and truth prevail;
is the moment you let it in to crush you,
shatter any ideals or hope you may have had.
It rips away your morals, your sanity,
replaced with a glossy under-coat,
and a new outlook on life.
Not a moral one, a truthful one,
Not one that believes in anything worthwhile,
or anything just.
Just one that promotes ruthless survival.
Survival of the weakest,
the weakest soul.

 

 

 

Harm

It goes much deeper than this, this pain,
but what’s buried inside,
my arms bear witness too on the surface.
I have no rational reason for this blatant
self destruction and I have no clear
solution to this pain.
My disillusionment with this world only forces
this habit into being;
this loneliness only allows me to subject myself
to this kind of torture.
The real torture however does not come
from the short self inflicted stabs at my flesh,
but can only come from the mind.
I see no way out of this;
even if I did these memories cannot
be forgotten and these psychological scars can
never heal like the ones I bring upon myself.
The issue isn’t the scars you can see,
because those are only small signs of what is inside;
and those cannot be shifted for anything.

 

Blame

Silence captures all there is to say,
yet these words seep from me;
sucking at this pain, soaking it, running through it.
Pulling these memories out teeth first,
grabbing,
back bitting,
gut wrenching,
all consuming.

The eyes the drowning pool of all that is lost,
still all that is held close,
encapsulating the truth in a split second.
Yet it must be all that is external;
all that is buried,
all that is pushed, forced, raped into silence.
Something that becomes something outside of ones self.
Something that is so deep that it no longer remains.

I blame you.