Yeah.
You know exactly what I'm talking about.
That place you go to.
That one place you go to where everything feels natural.
Standing in the kitchen, sharpest blade pressed against your skin, slash
What a safe place.
Such a stable mental state.
Oh what a damn mess.
Blood all over the floor, dripping from your vein.
The fuck are you doing?
You can't ruin the tile.
Go die somewhere else.
Oh right, the safe place.
Strangely enough when I press anything harmful near myself, I get calm.
So calm it scares the hell out of me.
Almost like I should always be in distress.
Gun pressed against my head, knife against my throat, dying on a fucking hospital bed.
It's all the same.
Serenity.
The moments where I'm dying are the best I've ever had.
So relatable Gary Jules.
Thanks for that.
Really.
Mad world, isn't it?
I'm in my safe place, you can't touch me.
YOU ARE READING
Dreams Over Reality
PoetryA compliation of poems and skits. The skits are no longer being continued. Most poems are about me and the events around me. Read my story This is my story.
