com·mis·sure

everything’s still falling apart.

my heart, my soul, my dreams, my spirit, my aims- everything.

there were always the days when I got warned of not having to hope-

and now I’m here, swallowing my own consequences of expecting too high,

thinking I could and would be the one making it out alive.

Turned out.... It’s just a realization now.

the thing about having a mental issue is that, you can never really go back to who you were before, how it was before, how things were before.

when you’re calmed down, it’s just it. You are controlled, not holistically healed. It’s still there; when something triggers you, a relapse is a thing. A thing you got to deal with. Gotta face. Gotta live in. And so the cycle goes..

I always think I deserve punishment, punishment of being stupid, vulnerable, not enough, and damaged. I will do anything to be able to hurt myself again, push my energy to the limit, hit my head to the wall and hang it high, scratch all of my skin ‘til it all bleeds, cut my flesh and bones until it aches no more. I need that knife. I need those keys, scissors, pens or any steel you got to break myself apart. I fall for the taste of my blood and the sensation when it flows down from my scalp, as my tears, as my sweat caused by any effort I’ve been doing for you above and beyond, neglected and refused.

If there’s nothing more to life, why should I wait still, here. You won’t look at me anyway, only to say I’ve done it well or not. Only to respond, whether I’ve done greatly or not. It’s just it. I never ask for anything too much, while I give everything too generously. My threshold is clearly the lowest ever you’ve probably ever dealt with, yet I can’t still hear appreciations from your voice. Maybe it’s all everything I’ve ever wanted. I only need it, nobody else out there, but I’m tired of wishing I could gain it. Could be loved back. After all these years knowing pure love is that difficult to find, you’re the closure of those chapters as an epilogue paragraph stating that indeed, it’s difficult. And I can, will never find it.. Because I won’t deserve it. You’re right. And it’s exhausting. I’m tired of wishing I could have another prologue as a second chance reminding me that I do still have an opportunity, but I can’t.

There are other spaces all over my skin, plain enough to slice, creating hyper-linearity of bright red color. And I’m all for it. I’ll drink it. My own punishment. My own blessing. My own refusal. My own acceptance. The reflection and projection of any curse I got to take. Also other spaces to hit, to make bruises on, to exfoliate- To get skinned alive. Until my ribs get open, and you all can take away my heart, killing it under my command. 

you went through all stages of grief,

finishing them all very well,

while it’s shoved blatantly to your face.

You didn’t know

You wouldn’t know

Something you’ve been praying for,

Something you’ve been falling for,

in joy and ache,

became one thing ruining your heartbeat,

stopping each in a blink of an eye.

You’re dying,

but one thing about dying is,

you got to still breathe while watching your soul slowly got drenched in cuts,

blood, bruises, contusions, and wounds

feeling each scratch and stab deeply.

And you can only hide,

because if you open up and they figure out you’ve been fixated,

they’re going to laugh at your misery,

bothering your torture more,

giving you more pressure,

reassurance to just die,

because nobody would understand.

They wouldn’t understand his charm, babe. His smile, his attitude, his sparkling eyes, his funny punch and pick-up lines, his gifted shape, and his attraction. He’s everything you’ve been waiting for, only to show up burning you in hell fire like this.

There are times to move on,

but there are times to remember and note a thing forever,

made as a monumental scar around your wrists,

reminding you that when you’re alive,

is certainly not here,

haunted by the vocals of my thoughts only

eaten alive by my desperation and depression

but there’s a lot of exhaustion

of existing and living

in and as a bundle of stupidity and judgment.

to escape from reality is a challenge,

but to face it is sounds like a must.

a must I do not wholeheartedly agree.

I’d like to keep closing my eyes

wandering in dreams and daydreams

not having to face the consequence of my recklessness.

This is another time to feel like all of the blessings are gone,

torn apart, away from me, because of my sins;

the sins I perhaps never realize doing.

I used to be a stern believer,

having some visions of my future.

However, nowadays time feels dull

Ages and years, I have been stuck in nothing and nothing

Wondering why I should survive,

I always know and feel I deserve better; but maybe not these days.

Why is it always unfair,

when I just wanna stay in my solitude,

you question this behavior and manipulate it as hostility to you.

When I just wanna reach out to you,

you wonder why I cross the outline of your own bubble.

You don’t have to assume anything.

You don’t have to feel like you need to help me.

You wanna know how to give a hand?

Be non-existent.

Get off me.

Get away.

Stop acting like you know how to handle me; matter fact I don’t need to be handled.

I’m tired of you;

your egoism, arrogance, selfishness, dark sides and everything

And after all the things that you did,

how dare you wonder how I could react this way.

You put some actions,

so I took some reactions.

I didn’t intend them to emerge,

you called them instead.

maybe somebody is something you need in the first place; but it’s not always that convenient. Conversations don’t probably work out; they’re just there, played by you and your company, but your soul stays still in the hell of your depression, anxiety, delusions, and death. Maybe crowds and noises can let you forget; but perhaps you won’t forgive your past or whatever has happened. Sometimes you just wanna be alone, merely with yourself and sadness, get drowned together to the depth of your subconsciousness. Even if it’s dangerous, you are allowed to enjoy the aches you make, sometimes it’s just everything you need to live in. Sometimes being alone in pain is the best decision.

Hi everyone!

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you’re seeing falling leaves

drenched in blood

stained with regrets

that trap nobody but me

me, the one who could be

the one who would be everything to you

I always told myself it would be worth it,

stabbing my chest over and over again with the sharp peak of your arrogance

the sword of your carelessness

I always thought you would be worth it,

the one who never sees me for who I really am

You decided to stand there,

Upon sharp nails

Screaming you’re strong enough to fight

Neglecting the blood streaming from your feet

Bleeding skin covering steels as they become your shoes.

You poured your ambition out

Burning the raindrops drunk by your flowers and trees

And then they’re splashed all over you

Swallowing you as ashes burnt by the heat

You win battles with your swords

Praised by your knights

Knowing you own your crown

Like it’s your whole dignity

But you.

You are not the universe’s beloved

It won’t cry for your shattered heart

No matter how painful living is to you

You.

You hang your dreams too high above the ninth cloud

Slowly you watch them drop like pouring teardrops

Now you’re wondering where to go

What to hold onto anymore

What you should survive for

You.

You’ve failed standing strong upon pressure.

You’ve failed raising your ambition.

You’re failed polishing your swords.

You’ve failed the whole universe.

You’ve failed yourself.

You’ve failed me.

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