©2004-2008 ~brian2
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Submitted: December 30, 2004
Image Size: 72.1 KB
Resolution: 563×360
Comments: 20
Favourites & Collections: 2 [who?]
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Total: 194
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Submitted: December 30, 2004
Image Size: 72.1 KB
Resolution: 563×360
Comments: 20
Favourites & Collections: 2 [who?]
Views
Total: 194
Today: 0
Thumb
Artist's Comments
what you mean to different people.
the sound the car engine makes when you're leaving
and the house gets so much colder
it's not safe anymore;
it's hard to sleep,
to be anything alone.
there isn't much I care to see,
care to not show you
...not much to do
...worth doing.
It's not the same.
there is an absence,
a growing abscess
sucking down the day,
begging one who's never been
to come along and stay.
I'm sleeping too much,
having trouble
distinguishing enmeshed dreams
from brief bouts of reality
and I don't really care,
whichever would be less sad,
I'd give unhealthy precedence.
and I do
sleep or stay up, with the decent.
and apparently I'm not in favour,
the favourite at least.
as time goes by
I'm sipping it
and wishing I was dead.
but I can't do anything about it;
I can't do anything to you;
I can't do anything with you.
and I can't go anywhere without you.
and I'm still mad that I'm not the favourite,
the happiest received
it's like spinning 'round
but standing still;
there's nothing left to feel.
time's too fast and time's too slow
and anyway, it doesn't matter,
because I've got no where to fucking go.
the sound the car engine makes when you're leaving
and the house gets so much colder
it's not safe anymore;
it's hard to sleep,
to be anything alone.
there isn't much I care to see,
care to not show you
...not much to do
...worth doing.
It's not the same.
there is an absence,
a growing abscess
sucking down the day,
begging one who's never been
to come along and stay.
I'm sleeping too much,
having trouble
distinguishing enmeshed dreams
from brief bouts of reality
and I don't really care,
whichever would be less sad,
I'd give unhealthy precedence.
and I do
sleep or stay up, with the decent.
and apparently I'm not in favour,
the favourite at least.
as time goes by
I'm sipping it
and wishing I was dead.
but I can't do anything about it;
I can't do anything to you;
I can't do anything with you.
and I can't go anywhere without you.
and I'm still mad that I'm not the favourite,
the happiest received
it's like spinning 'round
but standing still;
there's nothing left to feel.
time's too fast and time's too slow
and anyway, it doesn't matter,
because I've got no where to fucking go.
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Devious Comments
Im sorry you feel more shitty then usuall .. Maybe you need to move to a different country to be happy. not dead. what is the point to be dead if you dont even know if the pain will actually stop.... That is the scary part. People say they want to kill themselfs to make the pain go away. ... those stupid fucks.... How the fuck would they know????
--
MY EBAY ART
MY OFFICIAL WEBSITE
~kristal
p.s. how were your holidays. I hope they were well.
--
brace yourself.
coercing brutal honesty is often not pretty.
I hope yours were pleasant. xoxo
--
brace yourself.
coercing brutal honesty is often not pretty.
--
there's a version of the world without the will to despise it
--
MY EBAY ART
MY OFFICIAL WEBSITE
a growing abscess
sucking down the day...
That is how I feel most of my days. Tell me, are you 'depressed', or 'bipolar', as I am? Becasue your poems are exactly how it feels...
--
I believe in peace, bitch
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