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Posted by on 2014/08/13 under Uncategorized

I need a f***in knife, or maybe somethin stronger, anything that can splice or dice this itch and detach these remains of sordid sentiments strangling my soul, planted in the visceral catacombs of my chest. Every f***in word brings thoughts pressing a heavy strain on my minds every last recollection. Each left I make puts me right back on the same road I just pushed away from trying to find the next. I’m stripping each shout to try and contain my own mess. I’m heated and I’m set to explode in a moment or on the next rest,this symphony knows its direction and what it means to invoke. Just breathe, thats a hard task for someone left breatheless, a stomach coiled and a voice box devoid of wind. A man who can control his thoughts, is a master of it all. I hate each day, I bleed internally from the beatings I am given from this struggle, I cut each day out and let it bleed till it bubbles. Each breathe seems incomplete, I blame my troubles. But why should it bother me? I know these issues are unworthy. I don’t have to wear it. There are much worse things in life that befall the undeserving. I knew this man, well I guess I didn’t know him at all, because underneath his surface was a fly that was birthing maggots for thoughts. I have to understand that we can’t do it all. That I’ve been defeated before and What’s the chance it won’t come again, another fall. So I see this man, his first name was Robin, he gave us all laughs and wisdom but we forgot him. Made jokes about him, how crazy he was and how he fell off his rocker. Yet He still made it his work to cheer us up when we hit the bottom, not knowing the whole time he was never at the top, he was down handing out ropes to climb our way back up. Now I know for some of you, this might be too sentimental, you’d think I’m just another B.A.D fan,Bandwagon after death fan. I understand, it’s a bit consequential, but I wrote this for him because I know what he had to go through. I’ve been there before, hell I’m there right now. Where the sadness reigns free and the lights have all burnt out. Maybe there was an escape for him, and some way out. I guess this happening reminded me too, that success won’t save your life from dying down. I know for a fact, suicide is an option, If I could do it, I’d hope they’d find my body rotten, because that’s what I think I am, rotten. I’ve done some evil, but I know I’ve done, but in the end, do you want the apple that once was red, juicy and good and now lays on the ground, fermenting in place giving rise to a stench that is by no means good launching rot into space, or how about the apple hanging from its mighty tree, glistening in the sun, a red peppered diamond ready to eat. I am
rotten, the balance would never be made good. I have fouled up and must now accept there is no return only a forwardness to be understood. It is not to say I am the only to blame, but I take my part and must live with this shame. Now I go on, on to the next step, it is hard, that is no lie, many times I wake back in the same hook. I can’t be there anymore, I must make my escape, the chapter is over, it is time for the next page. So I’m sorry Robin, you didn’t have to go, but I understand the pain, I understand where you were, alone. A wall built up from so many years of tragedy, collapsed in, and all you could do was try to end, and hope this would be the last disaster.I am here still, trapped in this hole, I am clinging to the fact that I am still alive, but I am still cold. I lost my sun, I lost my spark. I’m trying to regain it, but I used my last match. Maybe I’ll make it, maybe I won’t. My story of tragedy is certainly not the worst, but it is certainly still painful. All that this is, I do not wish to make it all about myself, but I am hoping I can make an impact ,before maybe I too, will make the choice to end it all, and leave it all black.

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