#mindlessvices

I have 27 journals on my nightstand, but my favorite one’s on fire.

I lick down each page for the intimacy of silence and rage

-I find it amusing that I taste cinnamon and chili flakes.

She holds my secrets,

and they smell like flames,

they taste like garden snakes.

Just as small, but they’ve watched and listened..

I swear to god

If you leave me alone, i’ll never linger in your sight..

but if you try and pick my scales, I can’t promise I won’t bite..

I hiss when I catch my breath

light another cigarette, and trap it in my chest.

I cannot help it,

that I was born with fangs.

but I blame the green in my eyes, on childhood trauma,

and emotional pain..

I use my pupils as an ashtray,

and my eyes smolder brown, because I light my soul on fire,

at least once a day.

Self destruction is an art I can’t betray.

I like to play, and I always think I have control..

I’ve been down this bitter road,

and it’s a little too deep.

I overheat

I melt *in sensory overload*

because! I! can’t! keep! it! contained!

I cannot put out a fire

not a lick

or a flame

Sometimes I think I gaslight myself, when I spit venom at my name,

and I read the bible once, so I think i’m damned as fucking well.

I don’t thrive under pressure..

So I wrote and sent a letter, to the deepest depths of hell.

but I never heard back

I bookmarked pages of serpents, and hellfire. -tried to syringe toxins from my teeth.

My mouth waters with chili,

and cinnamon..

but I just can’t take the heat.

// Ophydia

FIRE

MindlessVices - Mental Illness

Like supple thighs under gripping fingers

Broken and bruised

My mind’s warped and confused

Neurologically

I’m a bomb

That can’t be diffused

Like a screw loose

The darkness in me

Is found as a muse

Body etched with death

I’m itching for my last breath

Clinging to smoke

I inhale

I choke

Black sinks to my chest

Racing through veins

Pumping to the heart

With anxiety

I riddle to rest

My drugs whisper

Telling sweet promises

Of better tomorrow’s

But I’m sick and tired

Of false information

Leading me to more sorrows

Pink - I tell myself it's pink

Our love is pink, and love ain't sick

I tell myself - I dress up in a tone so sweet

You hug me when we meet

Reality is you squeeze me and I bleed

I tell myself it's pink - and I'm the one

who blackens all your gifts

You call me Sailor Moon - but I don't cry Usagi tears

I love to feed you - but you're ruthless with me

You think I asked for it - because I was looking

wide eyed and pink

I tell myself it's pink - but it's turning to purpled

bruise, dear

And I can't tell myself this is pretty anymore,

it's turning dusty, frozen, unreal

like this story I thought

would be my first and last love!

Fuchsia shades - mean everything. I need to crawl outta here,

my pink is turning deadly, you're using it against me

I'm radically caring and that will save us all

I'm still pink - pinker than I ever was

From one tongue to the next

Exchanging favors flavored

Of minty fresh mouthwash

Masking acrid venom

Candy-coated pretty please

A taste a tease attempt

To tempt, kneeling on worn knees

Keen for more--dribbled

Dabs dangling from leather string

Break me/fix me

With everything I want to hear

Make it fast/no make it last

Savor the rush each bump

Going to the head, the buzz

Filling only to spill out

Can't keep you in

Left high and dry coming

Down until your hold

Constricts me again

Pretending you're the antidote

~TW - Addiction~

A time in my youth

I fell asleep in a grave,

and I still blame the stones

for not waking the same.

I taste the dirt on my nails

as I bite through paranoia,

knowing the hands of my grave

are the killer and destroyer.

I can’t help but envy the living,

while roaming streets with the living dead.

For I know they won’t say a word,

when my skin has been picked and bled..

but after awhile the decay gets old

-my veins still crave to feel alive,

and

after

all

there’s nothing quite like the rush

of blazing sunshine

It’s those of us with death inside-

The devils been our only comfort.

All my loved ones turned to ghosts,

and when I cry he lends his shoulder,

and with just a small sacrifice

he offers rays of the Sun..

as candy, bottles, and silver spoons.

Brief happiness and feeling numb,

when i’m plagued with grief and doom.

But when the morning creeps in..

He comes back for my debt,

at the same place I dug my own grave.

With the harsh smell of rot and regret,

where the words of my headstone say:

“Welcome to the cycles of Life

and Death

and it’s here that you cannot be saved”

// Ophydia

Mindless Vices - Addiction ~The cycles of life and Death~

Your love is

The color of a deep mountain haze

Late in the day,

Refracting the purity of the sun.

Your love is the color

Of amethyst gems and

Forgive-me-not petals,

Dripping to the linoleum floor.

Your love is the color

Of deep, well-placed bruises,

Of lipstick I don't own,

Of a heart, starved of oxygen:

Your love

I sent a postcard to hell

-no more tears in my eyes

I had blood on my nails.

Yes I survived the eyes of the devil,

all to say i’m doing well?

am I doing well?

When I opened up the mailbox,

I forgot to count to ten..

Seeing the crumbled up postcard,

with the writing in red pen.

Sending back his reminder:

“Return to sender who’s soul is still condemned”

-because recovery comes with cravings

and just like my crumbled postcard,

I will never be perfect again.

// Ophydia

Mindless Vices - Addiction ~The cycles of Life and Death~