Somnolence - III *Editing*

July 2020 • Pretty on the outside

Some things do not end.
I  mourn who I am daily,
Getting high off my paradox,
Oh my
What a selfish type of abuse-
A barren, desolate carcass being controlled by a
Sadist master,
I can't keep up even when I run faster.

Demented then stable,
Death then life,
Each day is different- I don't get to pick a side.

I confront myself daily, and find myself appalled each time,
Who taught me to be so vicious?
Aching to feel
Aching to wake from the ever constant sleep that I live my life inside.

I bleed from thorns to roses
Dried up and shriveled. They make bittersweet memories. Colorless now.
They smell of dirt and decomposition, no longer vivacious and desirable.
Inside I wreck havoc

I feel so sorry for my own mind for what I put it through ;
Inside I break things to no repair
Destroy them to oblivion like a hungry catastrophe
A starving beast that will drag everything into a void, and loose it's mind for the taste of blood
Lonesome and cold.
Lonesome and cold
Dead and lifeless.
I watch myself tear away from myself like an outsider and give my biased opinion.

Oh to put yourself back together would surely be a sin. Surely be a sin. Surely be a sin.

God must think I'm him for the way I praise and pray to myself
Or maybe I think I'm him. I walk on water in my dreams
But it burns the souls of my feet.
Empty cold
I made a bed out of snow.
Frost bitten and frozen veins they leave me still and callous begging for heat
But I hate the summer and wish the sun would eat me so I'd never have to see it again

Impending doom sits on my shoulders whispering me sweet nothings and I cry and rejoice at the sound of its praise. Oh how sour my own words taste when they leave my mouth
A cavity full of rotten metaphors and hate
God spit them out
Let me spit them out
I choke on their sound
I quiet myself for one more day. And pray to my god the rain can wash my sins far away
I bit the poison apple and now I have a life time of debt to pay