fightme5

[fightme5]

Take but subtle breathes I told myself Let them not know you live Let them not know you rage You collect your joys Like little bones Marked and marred But once bodied Once whole Things not to be taken Things that could only be Ripped away From flesh, from the living And with them You'll remind yourself Joy still sojourns In the inclusivity Of what lives In that, you find reason enough Not to turn your head Not to look away.

[fightme5]

I am sick of feeling things

[fightme5]

The thinness of my being told of a thread, a thread in hands shaking, a thread in hands that saw no needle-hole big enough. That saw no material to stitch to or more importantly, nought to make anything of.

[fightme5]

I recall disintegrating Teeth clenched Cages I'd hoped Holding back The black sea Beached by all this fear Solace attached To the hiding Who was I to speak I had thought To be without filter Mirrors knew not to seek I'd always look away

[fightme5]

I ponder still, my fear of dawn's breaking What does it bring with it? Four horsemen? The boatman flicking two coins Around skeletal fingers No, it cannot be that grand I find myself in it each morrow But night cares not for knowledge It can have no acquaintance with So what does it matter, what I think I know. Graves are made ready For all men alike. Gripped by night's Terror, or fooled by days comforting light.

[fightme5]

I'd again say that I endeavour to have a sense of being that holds only the faintest semblance of what it has come across. Because as the melody crashing into me at that moment. I only knew to float over all. Not so much searching, not so much seeking, barely being. I begot no such finality. Only the gesture of a ghost, and the permanence of tears. Wearily wind-washed and wading waywardly into oblivion. There's not much to be had in existence I suppose, but so much in the memory of it, so much.

[fightme5]

Do you feel the ripple? Building to crescando Each wave catching Eventually crashing Are you lost in it? Are you found by it? Like you'll ever know Time knows not what it does Only that it is

[fightme5]

The chest still tightens from time to time Thoughts spiralling, widening Pushing all else to the walls of my being Leaving no space for me.

[fightme5]

Wind pours in through the cracked window And I can breathe a bit

[fightme5]

Painted you across my skin, when I was so close to letting you in.

[fightme5]

They should invent a way to kill yourself that doesn’t disappoint anyone

[fightme5]

"Mama said gonna be all right But mama don't know what it's like in my mind Mama said that the sun gon' shine But mama don't know what it's like to want to die I can't carry this anymore Heavy from the hurt inside my veins I can't carry this anymore Wonder what it's like to be okay"

Anson Seabra - I can't carry this anymore.

[fightme5]

There's a real anger I am finding in all of this. In loving you and being maddened by you. I feel as though time is passing slowly and painfully each day my words pass like subtle breezes unnoticed in a thunderstorm. Is there anything in the world like knowing someone wholly and watching them turn stranger? Is there anything in the world like loving and losing?

[fightme5]

I loved my friend.  He went away from me.  There’s nothing more to say.  The poem ends,  Soft as it began,— I loved my friend. 

From The Weary Blues (Alfred A. Knopf, 1926) by Langston Hughes.

[fightme5]

I'm so broken I don't feel anything, I just feel bad I can't cry I can't even describe the pain because I don't feel it but I know it's there

[fightme5]

I don’t want help. I don’t want to feel better. I want to fucking end it all.

[fightme5]

I’m bleeding