In the death of the night
Midst the darkness
I can freely admit
I crave to draw a line
And cross it without looking back
Even though I personally know
Self-abuse is overrated & romanticized
The thought of my own red tears
Streaming out and running down
Makes my heart trip just a little faster
I mean, what’s there to lighting up one?
After that first drag, the slow huff
You can’t control your shivering
Your fingers turn cold and clumsy
Your nose starts running
A glass of fiery liquid
Looks so chic on your wooden desk
Tilt the light just-so for a max effect
Pick it up, swirl it, draw in the scent
Send it blazing down your throat
It’s not doing that attracts you
It’s the fantasizing that has you seduced
You can play out the dirty, the nasty, the dangerous, the stupid…
Without any hard evidence
Just playing with a fire that could torch up your mind
Give and take
A war of tuggings
Whip yourself up for not being good enough
Give in to the sweet relief of gutter; you can’t fall when you’re at rock bottom
Take it all. Take nothing.
Is it kindness if you’re raking yourself raw for not being kind enough?
Success. Social rules. Survival.
How do I break them all?
Day for the obligations, night for the desires?
Is it caring if my conscience has to force me to care?
Cold heart. Dry eyes. Deaf ears.
Can I finally accept my hypocrisy?
Can I learn not to judge myself for it?
Cry your blood, turn your stone into a heart
Inflict pain, celebrate the scars
Laugh at your idiocy, weep for the world’s misery
Go hungry, sleep out a food coma
Love with every inch of your body. Withdraw to the smallest corner of your mind.
What’s love without a little hate?