Little lost goth girl

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Little lost goth girl

Drowning in her hair

Swallowed by the black

Held by the harsh guitar sounds and banging drums

Seen in her drawings

Come to me, inspire me, allow me to see, to be and recreate

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Waiting- part of the very short story series

Her hands were sweaty. Her heart raced. Her stomach turned its empty contents. Her thoughts spun a million magnificent webs, none of which reflected rays of reality. There she sat, staring out the window. Questioning herself. Doubting herself. Fingers tapping the table. Legs bouncing. Watching the people rush by. Wishing at this moment, she could be one of them. One of the million people hurrying elsewhere. She wanted to be anywhere but here. She felt sick. Her empty stomach revolting. The feelings crawling up into her throat. Was the bathroom close? Swallowing it all down. Waiting and wishing she had said no.

Layer- another very short story (part of a series)

Not sure where I am going with these series of very short story writing and if I can somehow weave them together.  Guess we will see.

Layer upon layer. Hidden beneath her protective armor. Looking down. Staring at the ground. Never looking up. Never making eye contact. Avoiding. Shrinking. Slowly fading into the scenery. The thousand other faces bleeding together. Caught in the tide of society, the emotionless waves of people moving. Oblivious. Lost souls. Together they were nothing. Invisible just how she longed to be.

whisper part 2

It was like a long lost friend. This whisper. The whisper that promised her the world. How could she refuse. The years of suffering. The years of pain. It promised her the one thing she couldn’t achieve on her own. Relief. She dreamt of relief. Contemplated suicide. A way out. She hated herself for being too weak to take easy way out. She lived with her demons. They never left her. And now, there was a whisper of hope. An escape. Anything to get away from the way she felt.

Tired of numbing the pain. Hiding from it was futile. It always caught her.

Naked a very short story

Laying naked on the cold tile floor. The coolness from the tiles against her damp skin. Her body too weak to move. She enjoyed the feeling of the cold tiles against her skin. It was real. Perhaps the only real thing. She could cling to this. This feeling. The feeling of wet skin against cold tile. She could enjoy this moment. This moment. This brief moment which offered relief. Relief from life. From suffering. Relief from thoughts, feelings. The world. She laid there, relishing in the feeling. Her cold wet skin again the cold tile as her skin began to prickle and her body shivered. This feeling. This feeling for a moment stopped everything else. Until slowly, everything started to invade her world again. Sirens. Voices. Madness. If only she could hold on a minute longer. A second longer. It was too late. Life had made its way back to her. She opened her eyes. Stared at the door. Wishing somehow she could sink into the floor. Disappear. Vanish. She could hear the footsteps approaching. She forced herself up. Grabbed a towel and begin to do what she did best. Pretend.

overload

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Today of all days I wish I felt numb

experienced nothing

no emotion

no feelings

nothingness

but i don’t

i feel everything

amplified

I need a surge protector

to block

to protect

the bombardment of emotion flooding me

And in this tsunami

i can’t find the ground

or embrace reality

out of touch and overwhelmed

the anesthesia has worn off

I am naked

exposed

and vulnerable

be gentle

for this soul is breaking

it’s cracking

my cocoon wide open

butterfly

My Madness

my madness is sweet

tastes like blood kissed lips

an unscratch-able itch

an unsatisfied craving

dark

twisted

tormented

real

alive in visceral images

relate able emotions

living in the metaphor

afraid to come out

face to face

darkness breathes on my neck

shivers creep upwards

nausea stirs

the abyss is calling

toys

beckons

“jump in”

“come and play”

fear keeps me on the edge

Shadow pushes me in

swallowed

consumed

pain engulfing

splintering

shattering

fragmented

tortured

sitting in the madness

face to face

with my reflection

layers of worlds, thoughts, emotions

mine, yours, every living being

voices

crying

screaming

alone

darkness comforts me

I can go where I feared

I know I will return

changed

free

Cracks

Hoping to turn this into a cool drawing/painting.  Will post when it’s finished but for now here is the poem.

C r a c k s

           The ugly seeping through

bleeding

             out

                   infecting

                                 everything

Bandaids

glue

VICE GRIPS

struggling to hide

                          PRETEND

fading into the background

                                         swallowing

                                                         the

                                                               pain

It started with a whisper

                                    a HOPE

                                     a

                                      way

                                      out

She surrendered

to weak

            to fight

EAGER

             to escape

She TRUSTed

numbing peace consuming

I am Lost

The Wall

I’m feeling ill
Or lost
Maybe both
Thought I figured it out
Mapped and planned
I fell
Tripped
And didn’t get back up
I watched
The world pass by
Sitting on the cold cement
They passed by
Dreams
Ambitions
Held down by fear
And doubt
Feet soaking in
Puddles
I fell and decided to slip
Away
Allowed myself to be distracted
To accept
Silenced
I fell

Image

Noise

image

I can feel it crawling under my skin
This abominable
Inquitous
Melancholy mood
Smell the rancid
Hear the disquitude
Silence the treacherous thoughts
Madness lurks around the corner
Control waning
Who will come out to play?