I don't know who I am, I feel like every day I wake up as a new person. Take in my surroundings all over again in the morning, put my clothes on, sit down yawn and do nothing all day. Every day is the same but the person is different. I'm so tired and bored. Why do I get up if I'm just gonna relive the same things. School, school, tv, school, school, tv, tv, school, school, tv, school, school, tv, tv, school, school, tv, school, school, tv, tv, school, school, tv, school, school, tv, tv. the same noise in the background, the same the same the same. Nothing that matters is different. Same house, same people, same work, same everything. But every day feels like a new batch of lies i've gotta keep up. I don't know anymore, I don't know anything. I'm so tired, I'm so tired, how do I stay awake? I feel sick everyday and tired everyday it's so hard to keep my eyes open.

Dead Girl

When her dark nights got far too long,

when the lost kids found her soul

when they look through her corpse

to find her wishing bone

Hidden in the snow, lie awake from pain

I can't keep holding her frozen hands

she's dead

and i killed her

Her spirit, god bless her,

went with her

I'm peeling the ice off her skin

the little strips of tan

come off with the same coldness as the ice

Never met someone so lost in the world

never met a person so deep in her own little world

I can't get away

turn the corner and search for some other place

I can't keep running

my feet don't hurt but i'm cornered in this place

Stuck in the winter, looking at her

I want to leave, but she's the only one for me

What do i do, a dead girl

sitting all alone around a dead girl

looking at this poor dead girl

I'll never be like this dead girl

Wish I was this fucking dead girl

sweet summer child

tw ed references, blood, flashing image, murder, sh

I have a game I play, I watch and wait and prey. I see the little messages, I see the green and see behind the grey. Eyes on me, but turn your head away. Sneaking off in little packs, playing with your friends. I know what you are saying. I know you'd be fine to do some prying. How'd it happen. How'd it get lost. How'd it all go awry. Watching the sunset on the horizon, day after day. I can't speak in code. I just want to say. They're all talking about me. They hate me, they hate me, they hate me. Every meak little moment of mine, they scrutinise, they jab. I know they venom in the fangs. I see your little promenade à deux. I know you have these thoughts, I hear them in my mind. Helpless little kid, sweet little summer child, innocent little lamb, gullible little fool, derisory little juvenile. Dress it up how you wish, twirl me around like some prized pig. At the end of the road you drop me off. Dog to the farm. Plug to be pulled. Bucket to kick. History to be made. Food to the worms. Caps to fill with. Taste of phalloides and digitalis, spun in my tea. Make fun of me, wish that I was dead. However, revive, give me the shock, when you realise my life is fun to mock. Nobody is here. Everyone is away. The cameras, they are watching me. Waiting for me to be absurd, stupid, ludicrious. Wait for me to make a mistake. Pull my strings back into position. Watch me play again. Your mouths are shut, duct taped, and I can't be certain, but I know who I am. Back to me, avoid my gaze. I'm not old enough. I'm too young. Always self-conscious. I know you judge. Stay perfect, stay away. For every time I watch you dabble with white and green green green I get out my kits. I pull out my fingers and my little white knife. Let's play the knife game? Child. Let's play Russian Roulette. We can cut off all your fingers later. Gun to the fucking head, ecstasy or adrenaline. I'm not a sweet little summer child. I'll prove it. During Winter, I drop red into the purity of snow, taste the dirt inside the stow. During Spring, I'll get ready for sunny bright days by expelling all that I consume, cut into my skin as punishment. During Autumn, I'll cry myself to sleep because I know that nobody waited that long with me. The only people slipping away slower than the rest is my madness and now I can't even rest in knowledge. How do I need to prove myself? Be a whore? Fuck a priest? Let him inside me? How do I prove myself, to not be your sweet summer child? Do I need to spill blood of another? Should I start sharpening my knives? Practice cleaning with bleach? Start learning how to take down prison guards?

i feel homicidal

tw suicide

I'm so fucking sorry, I love you so fucking much. I ruined me and ruined us and ruined your life. I broke it all. I have to put it back together, I'm perfect, should I infect you? Did I darken your soul, did I make you crawl into your bed and cry. Did I do all this. I fucking ruined you. I'm so sorry. Can I fix you? I made your heart stop and I let you disappear. I made your whole life worse. I hurt you. I drove the knife through your chest and twisted and twisted like a vortex. I can't be poetic and know I'm a carrier of my disease. The illness of my mind is infectious. I said it wasn't worth it. I just want to fix it all. I can fix this if I try. I don't want you to die. I know you've got more spunk than me. I know you're better than me at everything. I know one day you'll be less than me. I want to die, than maybe I'll have fixed it. I can't do anything without causing pain and hurt. I'm trauma in a bottle and you drink me daily. The side effects are deadly and they don't come lightly. It may take a bit for the side effects to kick you towards the bucket. I made a false promise, I made everything worse. I made you hate me. I hate me. If I'm gone will everyone feel better. Everyone will feel better. Without my blood flowing everyone will be just fine. Everyone will be better without me. I'm the bringer and the bearer. I'm the priest and the demon. I'm the husband and the wife. I'm everything and everything is better when I'm not me. I'm missing my parts. I'm stealing joints and robbing people of nerves. When someone's born without a limb it's because my fragile body needed it. I am the only sacrifice that any god will ever want. To rid the world of me is valiant. I started the suffering. I'm why you're sad. I'm why you're mad. I'm why you're not responding. I'm why you're always calling out to get help. I don't want to be this burden. I just want to fucking die. I love you so it's best to leave. I love you so I tip my hat and run for my death. I'm getting on the next train. I cannot bear this weight any longer. I hear more and I think less. Less and less and less. I don't want to infect you with my thoughts. Why am I like this. Why do you still like me? are you just lying? Im sorry I made you this way. I'm sorry ill stand by your grave. I am so fucking sorry I am like this. Im so sorry that I'm perfect. Perfectness must draw from everyone else to exist. It must crush others. I'm so sorry. I just wanted you to be happy. I should've shut up, I should've stayed put. I don't want to make you sick. I want to heal you. I want you to turn the gun on me. Train it on my crown and shoot me, shoot me down down down down down. Use the bullets and make me another hell. Get rid of me and cast me aside. I'm an empty body, a vessel with no purpose, a blank canvas, a shell of who I could be. I can't stand this any longer. I'm so sorry. I just want to die. I can't keep breathing, the noises I make make me cry. Take me to a better life. Lead my hand and cut my wrists. Please just let me go. Please make me detach. I am the problem creator and solver. I am the puppeteer and the puppet. I am the evil and I deserve to be cast out. I cause every little pain on this giant earth. I cause everyone's hurt. I am no exaggeration. I am no hyperbole.

Meticality

Intricate. Detailed. Labyrinthine. Horrific. Terrifying.

It's all made to hurt me. It twists my arm in all the wrong-right ways. It causes all the pains and tremors in the wrong-right places.

Warm and Cold

I spend time doing nothing for people. I spend time with the people. The people I cannot. Nothing is all I can do. I somehow beg and plead and do nothing about anything. All I can do is drive the dirt deeper into my nails. I drill a nail through the head of all my relationships. They numb and suffer through my existence. I'm cold. I'm cold when I'm warm because the warmth is the numbness they all suffer from. Parents, friends, nurses, any family. Nobody understands it. They aren't supposed to. This is my hell, bad things happen so I feel bad about them. I'll never be okay. I wasn't meant to be okay. I wasn't meant for warmth. My body was only built to be cold. It makes me wonder why I'm still working. Still typing. I shouldn't be. I should know it's pointless. Something in me keeps going though. Something I should not be listening to. It's the thing keeping me safe. Sometimes my vision will break. As I'm sure it's from staring at screens essentially the entire time I'm awake, I don't bring it up to my doctors. It randomly adds dimension where there isn't any. There is nothing proving dimension between the tabs of my screen and my site, it's continuous. Though the most disturbing thing it does is remove dimension. It does it... seemingly at random. It flattens. It knows I don't need my eyes. It knows I don't have to see.

stable

tw suicide, abuse, torture, self harm, etc

My stable life makes me hate myself. I've never suffered like I deserve. I can't ever be helped by anyone. I can never complain because nobody has hurt me. I'm the only one who hurts me. I'm tired of dealing with my brain, please toss it out, please. I hate it so much to deal with this twisting, turning, maddening thought. I'm tired of wrangling for normalcy when my brain cannot be that way. No matter how many pills I take, I'm still struggling. I hate myself too much to be fixed. I beg for bad things to happen to me. I just want to be in pain. I don't want to hear about how your life fucking sucks, but I shouldn't want it. I will never see it that way. My brain cannot understand that, okay? I can only dream nightmares because that it is the pain I deserve. It is so dangerous to complain; I could be making someone commit suicide, I could be urging them to self harm. Maybe I'm aiding in their want to purge everything. I just want to smoke and drink, but I'm too young. I just want to feel bad. I love things that make me sad. I love gin and champagne. I love smoking cigarettes I found on the ground. They're the most dangerous food for me. Who knows what disease I could be getting. I can't wait to feel that suffering. I can't wait to be too weak to get out of bed. I can't wait to drink myself to death. I can't wait to feel pain. I can't wait to finally suffer like I never could in my childhood. I'm still young, I'm not young enough anymore. Nobody wants me anymore. I'm old news. I wish they chased me down in white vans. I wish they slapped me across my face. I wish they beat me to a pulp because I deserve it. I don't want to feel good. I don't want to participate in society unless it hurts me. I want to die. I want to die. The only thing that makes me happy is the promise of feeling worse after cutting into my skin. I love taking too many meds. I love 2,3,4. I love how fucked my brain is. I love how she makes me suffer. I love it so much. All I want to do is die. And then die again. And again. and again. and again. I just want to feel my life sucked out of my body, I just want to be tortured and cut and burnt. I want to feel the pain my friends have felt. I don't want people to care about me. I don't want parents. I don't want siblings. I don't want friends or grandparents. I don't want a parole officer or a lawyer. I don't want fans. I just want to bathe in the depths of hate. I just want to hurt like everybody else gets to. Grab my chest and push me to the ground. Touch me. Hurt me. Traumatize me. Smack me into the wall. Pull out my eyes. Corner me. Drug me. Kill me. Make me feel that pain you get to. Make me hurt. I can't wait to see the blood gushing out of my body in the alley you leave me in. I don't want to survive if it means not hurting. I'm not hurting right now, so I am failing. Only when I hurt do I want to survive. Please. Please put your hands on me. Please make me see stars. Please. I'm perfect, so ruin me. Smear me. Paint over my godly skin. Pull out my godly hair. Pull out my godly nails. Kick me over. Make me so close to kicking the bucket that I taste iron on my lips. I'll let you because I want to hurt. I want to feel the pain you get to. I want you to ruin this white sheet. I want you to paint it with purple and blue. I want bruises that start turning black. I want to rot. let me rot. Let me rot while you watch from inside. I hope you get this. I can't hurt. I can't be traumatized. I want it too bad. I want the pain you get to feel. These selfish assholes won't hurt me. It's because I'm ugly and fat. It's because I can't stop shoveling food into my body. I want to feel pain. I want you to hit me. I want you to pull off my ears. I want you to scream at me. I want you to yell till my ears ring louder than the tornado sirens. I want you to hurt me you fucking loser. i just want pain to find me. I just want to die. I want to die if it means I'm in pain. Abuse me. Torture me. Pull out my hair. Please.

I listen to songs that make me feel sad.

They remind me I'm pure.

Their lives are so bad,

but I'm living with a luxurious allure.

I like feeling worthlessly flawless.

It reminds me that I can't be fixed.

It reminds me that I've never been hurt.

I'm Sorry

tw suicide

I'm sorry I ever complained.

I know you're much more strained.

I know you're much more drained.

I know you're much more pained.

Sorry, you've been chained.

And here I am, fatality feigned.

I'm sorry I got lost.

I know you've been crossed.

I know you have a greater cost.

I know your life was tossed.

I'm sorry I'm gone.

I know I left you at dawn.

I'm sorry I won't respawn.

Real life'll just drag on.

I'm sorry I made you my pawn.

I'm sorry I'm killing myself, day after day.

It hurts to be molded from your same clay.

I tried to tell you I was going this way.

I tried to tell you to stay away.

I'm sorry, but please just leave me.

You could live your life so carefree.

My Love

I'm sorry, you loved me

I loved you

I was your safety

You never noticed my frailty

I know you knew it

But you just can't see the cracks in me

My love, they go deeper than the sea

They're the only things keeping me free

We can't live hand-in-hand,

you can't stay with me.

I've known it since the beginning

then your words got deeper.

and I felt like an asshole.

because i'm sorry,

but words take their toll

i don't have a lot to give

i can only take

im sorry this is how i live

laying in your wake

i can only hope your heart is open to forgive

all of this heartache

i know its narcissistic

but i can't help it

sorry all i am is another statistic

maybe we can be friends

maybe im wrong about this

how can you love me when im like this

tumbling around in my little big abyss

blood

tw self harm

theres blood on my hands

its the blood from my thighs and my ankles.

its from my shackles of knives, that rub against the grime

that sits on my skin forever and ever

in due of my crimes, my murders and thefts

i hide them from my inmates,

who im stuck inside

I AM NOT OKAY!!! PART ONE

i am not okay.i am not okay.i am not okay.

i am okay. i am okay. i am okay.

I LET THE WRONG SIDE TAKE OVER NOW IM NARCISSITIC, IM THE LITTLE PARASITES' GOD. OH I COULD DO ANYTHING I WANTED TO!!!! I COULD RIP YOUR LITTLE LEGS AWAY FROM YOUR TINY BULBOUS THORAX! ILL TEAR OUT YOUR EYES. I AM GOD. I CANNOT BE TOO VIOLENT AND CANNOT DO ANYTHING AGREGEIOUS. AAAA YOU USELESS FUCKS YOUR MINE ALL MINE IM GONNA RUN YOUR WHOLE WORLD!!!! I GAVE YOU ALL THIS SHIT YOURE IN LOVE WITH I MAKE NO MISTAKES SO REMEMBER EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU ARE PERFECT AND IF YOU ARENT ILL HANG YOUR LITTLE HEAD FOR THE NEXT GUY TO SEE AHH!! ILL GET YOU GUT YOU GUN! YOU! DOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM AN UNSTOPPABLE FORCE AAAA!!!

i am not okay.i am not okay.i am not okay.

i am okay. i am okay. i am okay.

i am the worst little rotten thing. my mind peels itself apart and i bleed deeply for it. you have dealt with nothing untill your brain has rotted and cannibalized itself like mine. i HAVE broken into peices of little tiny nerves and frozen blood you suck on during summertime. because you have summertime. i do not have seasons. i am constantly in pain and i am constantly suffering for YOUR happiness, i am held on wires and strings but you have strains of joy while i am only strained.i love you.i love you.i love you.i love u. its all because i deserve to suffer. i don't deserve to be alive but i can only hurt as sentience.

Poems 1 & 2

general tw

Deep and dark ensnaring tendrils

dressed up, faux lined ills

liar, liar, lost to me

tearing horrid upset

flaming, driving, fiery woes

blooming beneath a wilted tree

Passive be impending doom

when now I weep to close my tomb

nothings what I wish to see

this darkness lies below my knees

yet I want to rip and tear

my flesh to threads, and bones till bare

to not deserve my skin and teeth

is far much worse than cuts in air

for that air is made of nerves,

I pull to connect into my own

-

Rain sits on my window

crashing panes are all I see

cracking, cracking, far too quickly

useless, useless, for it to live

pointless, fareless, jobless

Descent

Brr. Cold. Mornings. Quiet. Dawn.

Blue light. Closed blinds. Harsh winds. Long yawns. Soft music.

The light shone through the cracks in the drapery and howling knocked on the panes of glass. You wake up to the haunting music of your alarm. Blink. Blink. Blink. Your eyes hurt, your eyes ache. You're still tired, you're still exhausted.

A soft blanket falls to the ground. The ground you set your feet on. Frozen still. It's colder than you thought. Flashing lights call you to your desktop. You stand there in spite of this. Why does it need you?

Anguish. Warmth. Evenings. Loud. Dusk.

Cries and screams. Heat and fire. Dark and warm. Jovial voices yelling.

It was odd. You sit on top of your kitchen table. Legs dangling. Eyes tired. Want to sleep? You refuse, your guests are important. You get up and visit the fridge. You overfill a water cup. You don’t pick it up. You’ll never pick it up.

You pour red wine for the visitors, supervised by someone tall. You rub your eyes. You want to sleep. You want to lie down. You want summer to end.

Elysian. Paradise. Ignorance. Power. Love.

Soft, comfortable. Godly, perfect. Lost, dark.

The environment was open, vast, and vacant. It seemed to go on forever. You walk. You place each foot in front of the other. You walk. You listen to the whisper of your feet hitting the cold floor. You feel the sway of your nightgown softly hit the sides of your legs. You feel the warmth of your body leaving. You feel a chill run through your legs, your arms, your back. You think of how you got here. You still walk. You still feel a breath of freshness as your feet raise from a chilly tile. You feel it hit the heel of your foot.

You don’t know. You want to sleep. You want to read. You want to draw. You want to escape. You wonder how. You want to continue wondering. The smell of something fresh hits your nose. It floods other senses. You try to decipher where it comes from. Somewhere in your house. A house you don’t realize is yours. A house you don’t know how to navigate. You realize your standing. You realize you’re there. You realize you can follow the smell. You change your mind. It doesn’t quite matter.

Colours. Bright. Carnival. Cheery. Loose.

People in dress. Fancy paper fans. Gleaming glass beads. Warmed up pathways.

The smell of a treat from a lit tent. You smile, holding the stick of a mouthwatering kebab. You smell the scent of snake oil perfumes. You stand in the bath of light from a lantern. You can almost taste the colour red. You take a bite of the delicacy in your hand. A sweet tang of honey dabs your tongue and the meat melts in your mouth. You feel the flavour fill your mouth. You twirl the stick in your hand, a happy memory. You feel the wood nick your fingers a couple times. You relish in a vague and fleeting moment.

Fire. Warmth. Flames. Burning.

The tall man who watched you. He stands behind you like before. You ponder his existence. You do not move. You do not waver. You feel a breeze. It chills you. You want to move. You want to waver. You stand still, you’re frozen.

Dark. Cold. Quiet. Wet.

Nothing. Everything.

Star. Moon. Sun. Planet.

Start. End.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

You stand on glass. You stand on the shards. You feel the only colour return. You stare at iridescence. You watch the reflection of the sky above. You wonder how many broken mirrors took it here. You crouch. You stumble. You feel a sharp pain. You feel a burn. You crumble. You cry. Warm tears stripe your face. Salt fills your mouth. It stings.

Mourn

I don't cry my tears

But for them I weep

And those tears, my boy, they go quite deep

But on the topic at hand,

show me your bouquet

before the roses all decay

while he's off in dreamland,

carefully now, before we play

The grass has failed to grow here

death plastered on its rough dirt

The spirits who see it are hurt

I would know I was once there

for now, my child, we'll go and let them live

It's time for us to all forgive

This is all too much to bare

Our thoughts have much to sieve

Anyways, I’m writing a book.

Complex - October 1st (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1122724190-complex-october-1st?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=cultlesscthulhu&wp_originator=H6v6ubZSj%2FF8Ivww%2BCae0BgbHxv41gJsDV3P%2FCh%2B5jpD3rfHIn8q263ed%2BR6oAzOWyRqum8QCr18RECsTcXaUDV5DziwPnC4ggtj%2BYh9XrOmcNiotEQZP%2B5gC4WWX0ll The story of two boys who, despite their pasts, could not be more in love. Complex follows the disordered thoughts of the protagonist, October. This story contains themes of self-harm, forms of abuse, and suicide. If you are sensitive to these things, please be mindful when reading or rethink reading this story.