• Screams coming from the inner soul.
    Trying to rip their way out but cannot.
    You help, with intricate nicks along the pulsating veins.
    Letting loose the obscure, shadowy
    Presence that is brought with the distress inside.

    You perceive no fault under the influence of horrific pleasure.
    Yet the agony you bear in the midst of it all, is unbearable.
    You try to conceive it in the lies as your enemy.
    And it only comes dwelling back in the midst of the cold night,
    Calling your forsaken name-
    You go to the drug
    The sanctity of that you call happiness,
    Pleasure,
    Love-

    You will soon come to realize the truth in your mendacity.
    That the metal blade isn’t your answer.
    It only guides your mishaps to
    An even more terrible place.
    For your way out is placed beneath something far less complex.
    They try to help you,
    Telling you to quit every day,
    Month,
    Year-

    You are afraid to near the brightened window,
    That of which can only pierce your eyes with suffering
    And show the world what little you’ve done to cause and effect.
    As you lie there now on the drunken bedside,
    Moaning for the clues to lead to the final answer;
    Glaring into the endless rooftop sight.