"Seek heaven through violence."
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Category: Writing and Poetry
"We leave the shores to see the mountains rising A distant impression growing This judgment creates the pain we hold Destructive intentions that serve no purpose but the end of us all" I have shackled myself. On my mind, on my heart, and on my desires I have put leashes, hoping that they would protect me. From myself, and of what my heart brews in the middle of the night if left to fe... » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
The grey hours of the morning. Quietness. Just enough light to see shapes, to not run into a wall. I stand in front of my mirror. More out of habit than out of necessity. My shell: just a greyish-black form in front of a white tiled wall. No features, no facial expressions. No eyes. One of the few times I can actually look at myself. Self-care in the truest sense begins here. The one ritual I do n... » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Warning: Graphic depictions of violence towards others I lay my eyes on you, and my inner beast awakens. Gently it rises, stretching and wrapping itself around me like a second skin. There, it purrs into my ear. Isn't that a nice target? As you talk, it sinks its fangs into my adrenal glands, releasing epinephrine into my blood system, making my fingers shake and sharpening my thoughts into silv... » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
"I wonder who I am reflections offer nothing I wonder where I stand I'm afraid of myself" (1) A question today, coming from a trusted acquaintance: who are you, behind all of your masks? That shell which you keep wearing to deter others from seeing the real you? Who are you behind your smiles and jokes? Honestly, how would I know? How can I answer this question? A few years back, I got stuck in... » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Every junkie has their ritual. Mine is the following: flipping open my roll of dental floss. Unwinding a piece as long as my lower arm. Carefully wrapping it five times around my index fingers - first my left, then the right. Then I grab the floss between middle finger and thumb, pulling it taut. An intake of breath. A short moment of reflection in front of the bathroom mirror, avoiding my own gaz... » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
Tonight, I am allowed to feel good. The waters of my soul are calm. My muscles ache of movement well done my stomach sits quiet and satisfied my urges rest silent, almost asleep. A rare bird, this feeling in these recent months of constant strife against myself. Where brain and body would fight constantly, relentlessly violently tearing my soul apart Pushing me into phases of manic, re » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
I met you, for a brief second. You were on your way out with madness on your brow and sweat all over your skin. Signs of the poison pumping through your veins. Your voice strangled and your body twisting, not able to hold still. Then you were gone. And the flat opened up to me. It was hard not to immediately react. To let my feelings go wild. To curse, to call you back. The bathroom flooded, the k... » Continue Reading
— 3 Kudos
Category: Writing and Poetry
Rage My hands holding its throat, squeezing trying to crush it Its claws wrapped around my heart, piercing trying to seize it A battle for control of dominance, of owning of mutual destruction We dance it, me and the beast, hating and loving, this tired old dance. Mourning My hands caressing the face, covering trying to hide self-inflicted wounds Its tears » Continue Reading
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