Is there anything more

Got nothing to believe in
Can't catch a break
Most times it seems to me
My life's one big mistake

All there seems to be is struggle
And nightmares may come true
All I feel is ugly
And bruised all the way through

Feel like the world's biggest loser
Can't seem to do anything right
I ain't afraid of dying
But can't seem to walk into the night

I wish I knew what I did so wrong
To be born to lose this way
Sometimes I wish the sun wouldn't come up
Don't want to live another day

Just want to run away and hide
Escape from my soul's pain
Only reason I don't suicide
I don't want to do this shit ever again

Karma's a bitch
And I am too
Some people's lives
Ain't nothing but screwed

Gonna slink back in the shadows
And feel plain bad some more
Maybe in some other life
I'll get an even score

But my luck won't change tomorrow
And it won't change today
So I lurk in the darkness
I guess that's where I'm gonna stay

I don't want to live this life
I'm tired of this shit
If there was the least opportunity
I'd take the chance to split

Just another bad day
In another bad way
My black heart beats ever on
More sour luck is on its way

Lily
On one of my bad days

Weary

I'm so very tired and sad
I've lost the music and the magic and the dreams
I've lost the mystery and the ability to use my imagination
To build new worlds
I've lost my hope, I've lost my faith
I've lost my precious yesterdays and my better tomorrows
I've lost the belief that anything holds any meaning
In the eyes of a cold and impersonal universe
My heart is bruised and broken in my chest
And everything goes on and on forever still

Darkness Within

My heart is too dark
No amount of light can ever penetrate
The blackness in my soul

Where does one find hope
When nothing can reach
Into the depths
Of the pitch black
That is my psyche

Dissipation

My youth
My hopes
My dreams
Wash away

Like blood running
Into the gutter
From the gaping gash
In the throat of the murderer's victim

His voice and mine
Both forever silent now.

Cancer of the Soul

Apathy
Born of disappointment
Bastard child of exhaustion
Infects my heart and mind
And metastasizes to my soul

The husks of lost tomorrows
The putrefying corpses of dead dreams
Litter the landscape of my psyche
My joy turns to dust
My hopes rot unburied on a hateful landscape of delusion
As the merciless sun burns scorches the dying world of my visions

The cancer of apathy consumes my ability to care
Love floats bloated and dead on a sea of filth
I want to care
I want to feel
I want to open my arms and embrace
Death

My heart would explode if I were to allow myself to feel
The cancer of apathy tightens about it like a vine
Chokes the life from all that I ever held dear
I am a husk
A shell
An appearance of something human

I am poisoned by the chemotherapy of normalcy
I stand undead
Enraged
Wishing to tear out the hearts of all that judged me
Wishing to feel something besides hate
Wishing to wake up and find something beautiful.

Lily and Shadow Lurker

The concept was mine but the weight of the embellishment is my spectral friend's. The style I use to express such things is different. It's pretty difficult for me to write poetry any more but he took the idea and ran with it. The medical references are from my mind--I've had way more medical training than I'd ever have wished.

He states that the death reference obviously doesn't mean physically dying in his case. He still gets depressed and wishes he could shut off his mind. Direct quote:

"This is the dirty trick on anyone that chooses to kill themselfs. Your thoughts will never shut up! If you think to shut up your unhappiness by dying, the joke is on you."

I try to keep that in mind because sometimes the temptation to give up is strong.

I also don't want to leave the suicide legacy to my son, who suffers from bouts of severe depression. If I was to yack myself, the message his psyche would hear would be "this is the only way to solve things." The world needs more people like him. So I want him to keep fighting.

Besides, the minute I showed up on the other side, the tall, gaunt dude would smack me so hard my head would spin around Exorcist-style in order to try and clear the wax out of my ears. He's always accusing me of not listening as it is. I'm listening--I'm just ignoring him!

Only joking. I actually do hear. But my brain, which is made of lime Jello, works slow and sometimes things take a while to penetrate the coagulation. Besides, he's a little fucker that teases me about stuff all the time, so I have to make vain attempts to get even every now and then.

Doing this actually made me feel better. I hope it had the same effect for my friend. Yes, I give him shit, but the truth is, I love you, Dude.

There's some good vengeance. He ought to be cringing for some time now! >;)

Back to Black

(a convoluted fucking poem that doesn't rhyme in the same way all the time and follows no fucking format, just tells that I am having a BAD FUCKING DAY and feeling very alone and friendless right now, and if you don't like it, fuck off. I don't need anyone's condescending attitude. I'm crazy, not stupid, and condescension does not sit well with me. So if you don't have something kind or helpful to say, don't say anything at all. And don't even talk to me about meds. Most of them make me very, very sick. I can't take them. Poetry that HONESTLY tells how I'm feeling is one of the ways I cope. So if you're only going to tell me I "need help..." Bitch, I already know that and am getting the help I can! This is one of the things that helps me. If you can relate, cool. If you can sympathize, cool. If all you're going to do is tell me how "sick" I am, then piss off and die. This is it, this is real, this happens sometimes. Roll with it or go visit some fucking celebrity fan page and leave me alone. That being said, here it is. And it's worth every penny you paid for it!)

The bleak has set in
And I'm back to black
Feeling the gloom closing me in its trap

I want to take a gun
To my head, to my heart
To just end all this shit
To tear this misery apart

I won't I suppose
Though it would feel good in a way
To have revenge on the gloom
That ties me up in this way

I'm sick of the people
Telling me how to feel
I'm sick of hiding my emotions
And not saying what's real

I'm not always like this
But some of the time
I'm trapped in the darkness
Though the sun shines outside

And there are some people
Whose lives are that way
Abused and confused
In a prison each day

And who is anyone to tell them that they should just be happy
That the darkness isn't real
That their feelings are wrong

Who is anyone to judge
The anguish within
Those who give up the fight
Feeling there's no way to win

I guess I'm still fighting
For what the fuck it is worth
But at the same time I'm cursing
The day of my birth

"Quit complaining," I'm told
"Or take some kind of drug"
The drugs make me more crazy
I'd rather just take a slug

Give me a bullet
Give me a gun
Give me a black day alone
And I'll make it done

Lily
The Frustrated, Pissed off and Crazy Bitch From Hell