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Say it out loud it will be okay...

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Pimp Lazy

Bluelighter
Joined
Jan 5, 2004
Messages
2,189
"Probing and questioning
the walls look the same
despite my drooping eyes.
Music plays softly and shadowed
brilliant light diffuse throughout
Alarm's mechanical beat
changing timbre, but never time
Waning? No still the same.
Must rise to wane,
but never. Never.
Down, questioning and probing
The true passion always leaving.
An absence, sadness, emptiness
reaching through caressing
with rough fingers my soft heart.

Some hold the needle and play gently
fearing the prick of the skin breaking tip
I held it to my chest; enjoying the pain
penetrating into my heart
I held it close believing the pain merely
a cut from the sweetest rose
I smelled the rose: cold, metallic, vile
I held it closer fearing to let go if
even I would never know that pain again.

Hard, emotionless, the poison leaked into my arteries
My veins contracting, forcefully pounding my head, the blood
Its rhythmic tide above the normal boundary of the sea
The poison, now, closing off the reason still on high ground"


One of my best friends died two days ago and I found this poem I'd written back when things were darker in my own perspective. I hope (in the way others pray) and I hoped for his mind and his happiness and I wish I could've done something, but that pain is strong.

I took a picture of myself right after I got back from the hospital after I was diagnosed with cancer and sometimes I look at it. I see the misery in my own eyes and it reminds me that the good times aren't all lies. There is beauty in life. When I look at the misery I've seen and felt I realize how good life can be and how much I actually care. That's what this poem does for me.

Each stanza was written at a slightly different time on the same night. There are 35 in total. These three actually mean something to me and I need the catharsis.

I love.

Peace,
PL
 
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These three stanzas flow right into each other, telling the tale of suicide by choice. I couldn't imagine such an experience until you held my hand and walked me through it.

It's rather powerful.
 
I suppose self-imposed death would kinda be the end result. To me it's about the absence of meaning, despair, and the knowledge of my destructive behavior yet inability to quit. It's about drugs too. About romanticizing the tool of my destruction. The knowledge that I was doing it and the fact that I felt like that pain was better than nothing. Further down the road to destruction is better than no where at all.

Peace,
PL
 
^What you said there reminded me of a Three Days Grace song...specifically the line, "I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all". I've found that line to ring more and more true as I live on.

And I believe the absence of meaning would be akin to death itself. Like I said, it's very powerful material. Thanks for stirring it up in my head to think of that.:)
 
Pimp Lazy said:
I see the misery in my own eyes and it reminds me that the good times aren't all lies. There is beauty in life. When I look at the misery I've seen and felt I realize how good life can be and how much I actually care. That's what this poem does for me.

Each stanza was written at a slightly different time on the same night. There are 35 in total. These three actually mean something to me and I need the catharsis.

I love.

Peace,
PL
Click to expand...
That sounds like it could have come from my head....I so know what you mean; you hold on to memories of the lowest valleys you lived in because it reminds you how much more there is now. Sorry to hear about your friend, thanks for sharing something so powerful for you.. :)
 
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