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im so close to dead

you’re about to wish you revoked those words you said

or didn’t say

but hey

at least you’ll live to see another day :)

each brutal day feels more a bore

and I’ve no longer got a single thing to be living for

I don’t feel human anymore

;;; so unsure

I feel like a revolving door

with every 360, i burn to the core

Infinitely astonishing – Divine Intervention

The crack between
“I’m fine”
And the fine line
Is often the point where too many fall

For the sake of being up all night long

Its not up for interpret, no longer paranoid of exploiting the verdict

This is about a balloon that got punctured the night the sunrise ducked South to stay dark.

And every last flame lost all spark.

They say after prolonged exposure
One grows numb

And maybe so
When my heart beats enough to go

But one cannot grow in a hostile frozen place

My life is a waste

I can’t unravel my brain

Each chapter
1. I’m weak
2. Good week
3. I speak
4. I’m broken
5. I’m down
6. I find madness every which way I turn the text around
7. I’m left
8. I’m right
9. I’m going to give up this fight
11. Face flat against the ground

Where does this end?

I can’t find my path because it hurts to much to turn around and without the pieces I’ve lost I won’t be found.

1. Dumb immaturity
2. Sense of self fault
3. Weakening
4. Self hatred
5. I refuse to take this

Waiting, weakening, wandering, faithless

Then 6. Worthless fucking wasted bag of dicks

How much more defaming defilement can my body take, I was built of straw, strengthened to bricks, then shattered, I no longer stand

My life has become this

Being raped

My phone added fuck to my swype dictionary

Yet no matter how many times I write it the word rape just won’t stick

Because the word itself is sick
Nonetheless the act has no adjective

Being raped as a college student
Is a tortuous cruel fate I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy

Because when everything you know inside your head is stolen, defiled and left for dead
Your Soul does not see hope in anything ahead

Don’t grow up
It’s a trap
Live fast
Die young
Or you’ll be biting your tongue as your life comes undone

I think I’m sick
Or just due to break
I can’t handle the other rape
I can’t fight this feeling I’m about to break
And I am plowing through psychology journals without a rake

For heavens sake I think I have bet all the pot has at steak

There’s a fine line between insane and genius

I don’t want to think about it I just wanna get down

But truthfully the wiser I get the less I see
And I have no clue who or what I may be
Perhaps I spend too much time inside my head
Or I’ve had this delusional thought I’m better off dead
Or maybe it’s thw diagnosis I truly dread
But I’m not waving
I’m drowning
In a self sick sea
Between what if
And the what could be

can I rephrase your question into my answer? – the stig *kylem*