Lie to your mirror, tell her that she's beautiful.
Lie to your mirror, and tell her that she is a good person.
Lie to your mirror, and tell her she will never starve again.
Lie to your mirror, and tell her that all of the drugs are gone.
Let all of those lies consume you, and so when your reflection stares back at you, it's your lies and not yourself.
No Escaping This Fate.
I often feel like there is no escaping this fate, no running away.
Nothing to hold me close, and keep the voices at bay.
Nothing to soothe the worry, or lessen the pain.
To assure me that this is all in my head, all in my brain.
I paint the picture in my head, nothing but bone.
But there's nothing to assure me, that I am not alone.
Not a single passing thought to let in the light.
Nothing to turn my head, to a much better site...
If this is a Game, I don't want to play anymore.
"Lovely lovely lovely." The females giggle, as they hold hands and walk closer to their graves.
This is fun, this is our game.
We are both sick, right? Both sharing the same illness.
But now you are drifting away, into this light of recovery.
I have been left alone, and now I see the true color of my illness -- Black.
It's cold and dark, I don't want to do this anymore.
I can't stop....
You receive less attention and suddenly you are back, taking me by the arm.
"Let's play again." You say, through a manipulative giggle.
I don't want to, I don't want to play anymore!
This isn't fun! This is a game of Russian Roulette until one of our hearts fail.
I know it will be mine, for my world is gray and your world is still full of color.
I avoid playing the game with you, yet no matter what I do....my mind is still playing the game.
The grave is getting closer, who will race to the finish line first?
Our deadly game of Ana...
Luscious red pointed fingertips.
I'll taste the innocence against your lips.
I can't stop laughing, I couldn't hide my smirk.
To think you actually think you have any worth.
I wish I could tell you that I'm sorry, or that I wouldn't be right to claim...
That you are a part of the experiment to my all time ****ed up game.
Sinking these fingertips deep into your heart...
Don't be silly boy, I'll break you the-****-apart.
And hold your bleeding arteries well within my hand.
Whisper everything I want you to do, you are now at my command.
Can't you see already? Of what an abomination I am?
Suited up in makeup, all faked up in glam.
Desolation
I'm stuck in this nightmare, one that cannot be escaped.
Chasing down these pills with alcohol to numb out the feelings of regret or fear.
My mind is so clear, plan so perfectly designed.
I'm waiting for happiness, waiting for hope.
But nothing comes, nothing seems to ease this mind that's trapped in an eternal state of darkness.
Figurines of vibrant orange, demon's clawing at me, twisting my mind with thoughts of suicide.
Random strangers approaching me and asking me if I'm alright.
Hah! Yeah, I'm okay.
Perfectly ****ing okay.
I'm not okay.
And nothing bares more weight on my conscious than knowing I have to stay a minute longer on this ****ing planet.
They laugh at my jokes of suicide, they think it's all a ****ing game.
They don't know that I'm screaming. They don't know that I'm dropping hints.
I'm a body morphed together with hate, hate of this world and the filthy ****ing thing we call humanity.
I loathe existence. I loathe faith. I loathe god.
I loathe the idea that I'm stuck with even the slightest fear of death.
So I wait for this day to come quicker, where I'll chase down these pills and fall asleep.
Fall asleep on these tracks and wait for my train of demise to take me into the endless sleep of nonexistence.
If one word sticks out to me more it's desolation.
The state of complete emptiness and destruction.
Suicide Plague
Suicidal thoughts come like a plague, it infiltrates your mind until there is nothing left.
It cuts off the circulation to all happy thoughts, leaving you in a state of emptiness.
Once you've felt you've escaped it, it comes peeking back around the corner and charges at you will full force.
You are never free of your plagued mind.
Until the stay you go against all instinct and welcome death.
Bête Noire
Hate, I am filled with endless hate.
Isolated in silence I have time to contemplate
That the choices I make some how have a chain of reaction
And if I don't start to change or take action
I'm flawed by design
A narcissistic sociopath not capable of feeling or wasting my time
With all of these people's filthy **** problems all they do is whine
No I'm not like you, my mind won't sync with your games
Humanity is full of repetitive cycles, maybe I'm just **** insane
No I'm not the religious type, I've gone through all of that before
Realize that inside of my own mine is nothing but a war
Of who I am, or who I want to be, but I've abused, I've broken, I steal
It's all a bunch of bullshit, there is no freewill
There is no FREEWILL
T H E R E I S N O F R E E W I L L
Train Tracks
Take a line of these white pills as I start to feel nothing.
Text them a final time to apologize for being a failure.
With less than three months left, I can feel the eagerness of leaving everyone behind for peace.
Peace of mind, peace of soul...clarity.
I chase death like a drug addict would chase a high.
Constantly research of the mortality rate of each type.
I shut out my feelings of love for others, I don't deserve them, they are better off without me.
Everyone is better off without me.
I like to think of everyone's reactions when the act it done, would they cry, would they blame themselves?
No one cares until it's too late.
And this time, it's much too late.
Follow suit
I'm following suit with my plans for May.
There's no point in finding a different way.
The items are still hidden, ready to be taken out.
The note for my motivation and what it's all about
So keep calling the centers keep trying to keep me alive,
Haha you can only do so much, I'm meant to die!
You cannot save me, I died long ago.
So im putting on these shades, let's get ready for the show.
Can't think of a title
I'm haunted by the parasites that plague my mind
Haunted by the smiling faces of what could never be
Left to make the decision to repeat this endless cycle of hell, for my loved ones joy.
I look at the world through fire 3D lenses
3D demonic beings tearing at the remaining memories of joy and ripping them out of my head
I can't think of many more thoughts to hold on to, they all lead to a barrel
My wrists are bound and linked to those holding on to the faded memory of me.
Pretty cool that you've kept this up. Also, that last one you did, reminds me of something I would have read from Doki Doki Literature Club. That's always a plus in my book.
KMC Community Forums
I post a lot of them on a site called AllPoetry. 
Jun 2nd, 2014 02:23 AM
Thanks Scribble!
