Desperate to die, We cannot live

The night

Red rivers of sorrow

Chase our memories

By knife

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

You’re fucked.


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,

Live on.

I have conquered the sickness.


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