IridescentWingsRiver

She was sprinting Through the forest Of whispering trees And fell to her knees Asking God questions Yelling foul things Will anyone see Her curses & blasphemy She was all alone With herself As her only friend Shadowing every red Hinting a death So premature I told her to go to bed It was a cure, I said For my dreams Are my only love There at my side Either day or night Giving me hope When out at sea Turning the tide Though Poseidon had tried Now she's flying farther Than any bird you'll see A cold circulating core She didn't want it anymore She'll leave you breathless Even in her current state Life was such a chore But she opened

        "Bitch, shut up."         His words echoed in my conscious. His head's grown too big for his shoulders, Hell; he's top-heavy because of it. He's so unaware it hurts. I could never forget that look in his eyes when he said it too. He has no idea that I hate him and I have no idea why. We speak on a regular basis, spend half our day together, and grab lunch every other Wednesday. It's driven me crazy. I sit there emotionlessly while clenching what is in my hand, restraining myself from murdering him. When someone says his name I flinch. My phone busted out in paroxysm and I read the name: Vincent Zierran. I winced and tapped the ans

You're a little too dramatic, Too depressing, too ecstatic. Maybe I won't win now in your court, But in time you'll fall short. I've been planning for many years, And you've been playing off my fears. You ask me why I'm snickering, Why my eyes are flickering. It's because of what I've heard and seen, It's because I'm waiting until the day they guillotine you, little miss queen.

"I'm going to tell you everything is wrong, Just so I can get your sympathy. I'm stealing all the light from real problems, So I can feel your empathy. I'm not starving or sick or hurt or homeless, I want to be the most important. I act like I'm depressed and I pretend it every single day, But aren't my feelings worth it?" Hell no.

I can't quit hugging your ghost, The illusion I want to believe most, Letting go, saying no, pretending so, Perhaps I'm just living in a grayscale world, Not feeling and living the martyr, Practicing asceticism for my sake, &&' my feelings are esoteric, Depressing thoughts, low shots, Blood clots, Spending days watching the world move around me, And everyone is living on pure pleasure, Maybe I'm just searching for the liberation of my human suffering, I'm running to nowhere, Falling to nothing, Singing songs, clearly strong, being wrong, And I haven't had hope in humanity since God left Chicago.

Skeptical of  my existence, What would befall if my terminal breath was fortwith? And I disintegrated into the breeze, And observed the populace as I deceased, Would anyone scrutinize for me? Or would  it be another day? In fact, would my interval of leaving  and departure be a beneficial thing? I feel so dispensable. Like I could let go and no one would even desire to restrain me, The mirror wouldn't long for me, I sure wouldn't pretermit it. I have nothing, nothing to lose? Should I be surviving so cautiously dear? Dear? Would you even care? It wouldn't be the fact that I exited, It'd be the concept it wouldn't phase you. It's like there t

My account? It's placed where your originality is. I owe you nothing, I've lived in my own noesis for years. So in that manner I was free from the implication of liability. I reject the idea of being your totalitarian subject. No world was created for you, So pretty please, let your demeanor Obscure that cerebration. And I'm just desiring to get by as an veracious coward. I scare you? I observe where you are coming from. People are appalled by the unknown. Well, I  conceive that I'd preferably be detested for what I am than what I'm not. I'm a hypocrite. I despise hypocrites. I scorn myself. I to this instant can't comprehend why I hate my

Have you been like this for days? It's been a week with the door locked and your depressing music. Tissues scattered, Nothing mattered, Anymore? Then who am I? I'll be your anchor if all else fails, I know the lonely way too well. I know the depression; When you pretend your happy and like everything is going right. Fooling even yourself until the moon rises, Letting the beast inside you howl, Pretty lines are meaningless, And being saved is what you want; Even in the form of jumping, Just to be caught. Blaming yourself, gets you nowhere sugar, Trust me. Get up, dust yourself off because there are seven billion people on this earth. You do