On The Edge/Do Not Test Me

On the fucking edge and I’m ready to be pushed.

Tear me down, talk down to me, do whatever the fuck you want.

But know this – everything is not as it seems with me. 

I may be heavily damaged and over emotional, but I am not a doormat.

No, I am well past that point. 

I will devour your soul in front of the ones you love and smile whilst doing it. 

Do not test me. 

Fuck

He’s stuck in a dead end job he hates.

And he got offered a better one, where he flourish.

But she was there. 

And she wasn’t so stable, she wasn’t so okay. 

He didn’t take the job. 

Now she hates herself even more. 

And I Need To Be Brave

And I need to be brave,

I need to forget my doubts, 

the what ifs, 

and all the other awful nonsense that takes place within my mind.

And I need to be brave,

less buts,

and more positive self encouragement and reinforcement. 

And I need to be brave,

because if I don’t,

mental illness will be the death of me. 

No Happy Ending Without A Rough Start

Do you know what it’s like to go to bed every night in absolute fear?

To feel so mixed up of a morning that you come to a point where you simply just fall into a heap of tears?

Living on the edge isn’t always a fun occurrence. 

Sometimes, it’s trying to get the lump out of your throat, but you can’t because the pain is so immense. 

And sometimes it’s fighting the feelings that destroy your soul and break your heart.

But what you must remember is there’s no happy ending without a rough start. 

Sad

I wish I could say it’s all going to be alright, but the fact of the matter is, I have no idea if I’ll ever be okay again.

I have fleeting moments of stability which lead me to believe that life is all good, alas, they are becoming fewer and fewer by the month. 

I’m so sad, right to the core. 

It’s as if life is a series of soul crushing blows to the mind, and I must say, I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. 

Scraping By

I fear that the secrets I hold deep within my soul are enough to scare anyone away. 

Years of bottling emotions has led to the inevitable crumbling of my entire world, and there’s nothing I can do now but persist with living. 

Living.. I guess you could call it that, but it’s hardly what I’m doing properly.

You see, my mind is at constant war. It’s forever the voices of good and evil fighting it out; and it’s blindingly obvious that the evil side is more powerful than the good. 

So I guess I’m not really living at all, I’m just scraping by – trying desperately with everything I have to win this battle, to get through the day and to live in a somewhat happy state. 

But it’s become more of a challenge as of late, and I fear that the mental anguish will never end. 

Natural Disaster

Years later and the pain still lingered.

She did not have the slightest clue as to what to do now, 

she tried to bottle it and it made it worse,

and now it was almost like a horrendous natural disaster. 

She would completely lose sight of everything around her at times,

and never felt safe anymore. 

She was either numb to emotions or violently unhappy,

and there’s no telling which is worse. 

Pull Me Up

Take me to a beautiful place,

where the sun shines and the air smells fresh.

Help me to wind down,

care for me gently and show me I’m appreciated.

Let me speak my innermost thoughts,

then help me to understand them and show me that I’m not as insane as I sometimes believe.

Teach me that life will get better,

do things with me that make me happy as well as you.

Sometimes things get a little messy in my head and I’m a little more fragile than most being’s you’d come across,

so to do these things, 

would pull me up after being kicked whilst down. 

Alone

You say you understand,

but you never really could, 

unless it had happened to you too.

And the thing with life is, 

No two person’s experiences are the same;

they are in no way comparable.

Therefore,

the pain that I feel, 

the thoughts in my head that tell me to give up,

have absolutely no correlation to how you feel.

Angry Poet Shit..

Clenched fists and a broken heart,

everything seems to have yet again fallen apart.

A certain need for pain,

the physical type – that leaves a stain.

Just want a second away from the heartache,

but there’s no escaping memories and this pain really takes the cake.