Idealism och realism


Nu är jag led vid tidens skism
emellan jord och stjärnor.
Vår idealism och realism
de klyva våra hjärnor.

Det ljugs när porträtterat grus
får namn av konst och fägring.
En syn, som svävar skön och ljus
i skyn, är sann som hägring.

Men strunt är strunt och snus är snus,
om ock i gyllne dosor,
och rosor i ett sprucket krus
är ändå alltid rosor.

- Gustaf Fröding

Ångest

Ångesten river och klöser i bröstet,
likt råttor som vildsint försöker krafsa sig ut i frihet

Jag andas hackigt vill få andningen under kontroll,
vill återta kontrollen och lugnet.

Ett hård tryck över bröstet, känner hjärtat picka som en livrädd liten fågelunge,
råttorna klöser och river i vildsint frenesi.

Jag försöker fokusera på här och nu men tankarna lyder mig inte,
de virvlar runt i huvudet i en gäckande hånade dans,
radar upp sig likt en morbid lit de parade.
Framför mig ligger dem, bredvid glaset med vodka,
de vita små runda pillren, de som hjälpt mig att fly detta inferno tidigare,
sträcker ut handen för att omsluta dem, dessa min enda räddning

Min hand stannar upp, tvekar för en sekund,
i detta vakum mellan en blixtrande nervimpuls och en annan exploderar ångesten fullt ut,
råttorna har rämnat murarna och myllrar i tusental genom kroppen

Utan att jag märker det sluts handen om räddningen,
sväljs ned lika lätt som vatten, vodkan bränner i halsen
och sprider en bekant värme efter sig

Jag sluter ögonen och välkomnar lugnet som långsamt infinner sig,
likt ett brinnande hav sveper det genom kroppen och bränner allt i sin väg,

Ett leende sprider sig över mina läppar
när jag känner hur jag dras ner i det medvetslösa drömfria mörkret

A pretty picture

I draw a pretty picture
A picture on my wrist
The picture keeps getting bigger
Every time my feelings are dismissed

You think the words don’t hurt me
That the actions don’t cause me pain
You think that if I smile
I must be happy again

I’m not going to blame it on you
Because I know that its my choice
But it only ever happens
when you raise your voice

I hear the screams and shouts
And I reach out for the blade
I do it without thinking
Then I look at the mess I’ve made

It looks ugly and it stings
But it takes away the pain
And the hurt
Of all the other things

I know you’ll tell me its wrong
If you ever find out
That’s why I keep my arms covered
I don’t want you to scream and shout

I keep my arms covered so no one else can see
The scratches ive made on my arms
There something that’s private to me


Living hell

She promises herself
It’ll be just one more time
And then no more

but she’s made these promises
A thousand times before
She’s hidden the blade
Away from everyone else

somewhere she hopes she’ll forget herself
but the whole world knows that she’s depressed
the whole world knows her lifes a mess

What people don’t understand is the reason why
And the reason why she needs to lie
Nobody understands why she can’t be truthful
and be the person she longs to be

if somebody looked deep into her eyes
I wonder what they’d see
Would it be a fantasy life
Or would it be reality

Only she knows the answers
But she’ll never tell
The reasons why her lifes a living hell


This evil thing

It’s eating away at my body
Crawling over my skin
It’s hiding deep inside me
This evil thing

It’s taking over me
Won’t let me go
Do I wan’t it to leave?
I just don’t know

It’s taking over my mind
My body
My soul
And in my heart
It’s left an unfillable hole

It’s changed me as a person
For good or for bad
I want back the body
I used to have

I want back my mind
I want to be the old me
I want to be happy
I want to be free

But I can’t be can I?
I can’t be happy
When all I do is cry

It’s eating away at my body
Crawling over my skin
It’s hiding deep inside me
This evil thing

It’s taking over me
Won’t let me go
Do I wan’t it to leave?
I just don’t know


Take me

 
Take me in your hand
Draw a pretty picture
Go on
Take me
Go on
It’s been so long
Take me
It’ll make things better in the end
Take me
Go on
Upon me you shall depend
Take me
Go on
Cut deep this time
Cut in a place that they’ll never find
Take me Go on

It started with a razor

As tears run down her face,
she realized she’s made a mistake.
An utter suffocation,
she’s trying to hold on.
But the pain,
the pain’s to strong.
The bloods running down her wrist
Her eyes are going shut
but she’s trying to hold on
while voices in her head are saying something is going wrong.
She doesn’t know where she is or even why she did it.
It started with a razor and a few little cuts.
But became addictive and she cut to much.
Now she’s laying on her bed,
wishing she could go back.
As the world disappears and everything goes black.

Lost Innocence

This young girl kept from sight
crying into the middle of the night
she fears that others will sense the shame
but was this girl really too blame?
this little girl who was full of belief
could not from him seem to find relief
she feels so dirty with her clothes which are tore
when she is being flung on the bedroom floor
this broken child lost her innocence at a very young age
through a trusted mans deliberate drunken rage
her little broken heart was full of pain
through the rest of her life it would stain
people would see the bruises that lay upon her face
she wanted and longed for her special place
while he was looking around
this little girl couldn’t make a sound
she couldn’t have her own bed
he would be there touching her instead
taking her clothes off he would touch
this haunted her little heart so much
she just wanted him to understand
but instead she got the back of his hand
night after night she endured this pain
never to be happy ever again
this little angel from above
could not find the slightest inch of love
this mountain of unnoticed fear
went on year after year
while she was crying silent tears
he was tucking into some beers
why would no one come to her aid
day after day her happiness would fade
this went on for so, so long
and no one thought that this was wrong
this little girl that no one could save
she longed for her peaceful grave

Enough

Tonight I weep in response of fear,
I can’t seem to stop my uncontrollable cries.
That death is in grasping range from here,
That death is closer than I realize.

I can barely make out objects,
Because the tears are flowing so fast.
Every time I seem to figure out a concept,
My memory fades and it doesn’t last.

So I sit here with a knife in my hand,
Wishing away my pain.
Trying to comprehend and understand,
These thoughts that drive me insane.

I go down my wrist with a shaky start,
and as I finish that mark it doesn’t feel so bad.
So I add another and watch the skin part,
Then stop myself of the cure that keeps me from being sad.

I hurry and stop the bleeding,
Before it starts to get out of control.
The tears continue down my face in lines just streaming,
I can’t believe I’ve done this, I really sunk myself down low.

Even though it eases my pain
For a little while,
I have nothing to gain,
From my actions that are so vile.

I know I need to stop hurting myself,
and get some serious help.
But my soul feels trapped on a dusty shelf,
crying out with every scream from all the pain I’ve ever felt.

So if you would just come and rescue me,
And save me from my decisions.
I’m sure that I could come to be,
The happy girl that I envision.

smärta


Smärta Jag står framför
spegeln och tittar
på mig själv.
Det smärtar. Det gör
så ont.

Ångesten har varit
med mig hela dagen och hållit min kalla hand.
Ångesten.

Min enda vän som förstår varenda ord
som kommer ur min mun.
Min enda vän som förstår min varje tanke.

Denna förbannelse som håller mig sällskap i min andra hand börjar bli varm.
Mina händer är varma.

Om och om igen låter jag den smeka mig.
Den där onda tingesten. Förbannelsen.

Den skiner i månskenet.
Den ger mig fruktansvärt plågsamma minnen.

Om och om igen smeker den mig.
Snart faller jag ihop.

Jag kan inte sluta titta på mig själv
där jag står framför spegeln.
Rösten inom mig kommenderar
den fula förbannelsen att fortsätta sin resa.

Fram och tillbaka.
Fram och tillbaka.
Om och om igen.

Smärtan kommer smygande.
Denna svidande smärta
som bringar mig onda tankar.

Det gör så ont men likt förbannat njuter jag.
Eller är det verkligen jag som njuter?
Kanske är det den kommenderande rösten
som njuter?

Jag sätter mig ner på stolen intill mig
och gungar sakta fram och tillbaka.
Saken som orsakat mig svedan
och smärtan faller ifrån mig.

Mina tårar rullar tyst nerför mina kinder
och jag känner mig utmattad.
Alldeles slut.

Smärtans hånfulla leende
tvingar mig upp från stolen
för att på nytt ställa mig framför spegeln
och börja om
igen..

Om och om igen..
Fram och tillbaka..

Cut at Will

A pathetic statement reaches my lips,
I swallow it down, bit by bit.
I bite my tongue so they won’t know,
The stories that I have left untold.
 
The pain sends me into ecstasy,
they’ve taken everything else from me.
The blade is always there,
to lift the agony that I bare.
 
The razor is my only friend,
It’s always there in the end.
It doesn’t laugh, taunt, or tease,
It’s only use is to please.