Desperate to die, We cannot live
Red rivers of sorrow
Chase our memories
A prevalent cruelty synchronised to our actions
Trapped in a maze,
And we can never win.
Cuts carve ridges in skin,
Our victims cut and slash,
but won’t end it.
So often the pain can drown you so deep
If you can’t swim
We feed on the dying of the light.
The knife is driven remorselessly forward,
we cannot stop the dying.
Life is death, and in death we will find life.
Take the plunge, into the dark twists of terror.
Shivers and tremors and blood in our mouths
Headaches and fevers and carnage; forever death reins, for we cannot stop killing
WE FEED off the energy of destruction and fading blackness
But there is a stronger part of us that cannot stand this pain
And we know we must end this game.
We beg others to kill us
And when they can’t
We plunge the knife into our beating hearts without remorse,
A twisted conglomerate of bleeding laughing clowns in a circus running rampant with death; that’s what this is.
We are the clowns.
The sharp steel twists in my stomach as I collapse,
Stabbing myself three more times in quick succession
The hardest thing I have ever done
The endless pain erupts,
And at that moment an inner smile spreads,
In that moment, the pain is over.
I have died,
And in doing so,
I have conquered the sickness.