An empty carapace.
A string of unsolved murders tied to the feet.
Wobble through the seasons with a hollow heart.
Chocking on the hatred and the rancor,
Blood on my hands as I watch it all fall apart.
I’ve joined hands with the dead and danced with the living,
and none of those saved me from the dark.
Kept on my knees to stand up tall again,
kept my ears open despite your vicious bark.
No one can possible envision the emptiness I hold within,
a black vortex of unhinged emotion,
rage that I hold in.
A barbarous silence fills the air,
but you can’t see me,
I’m not there.
Sometimes you get so tense and emotionally unstable that familiar scenes start to look foreign. The people that once brought you joy now seem unbearable, you’re completely detached from them. It seems that you’re living in your own little miserable bubble and others live in a completely different world.
You’ve become a hermit. Even a trip to the store makes you want to punch every single oblivious shopper in there. Feels like 1000 needles are piercing your skin every second of the day.
You try and laugh and be normal, you take your medication, your vitamins, you make jokes but you know that inside you’re rotting away and one day you just snap and you can’t do it anymore. You scream, you cry and do dumb things like harm yourself. You’re empty but you feel everything.
It eats you on the inside. Nothing you do is ever enough to make you feel better.
The devil is a lovely fellow,
He asked me for a dance,
I smiled and took his hand,
I knew this dance would be my last.
We danced our way through the old town,
through narrow streets and passersby,
through old building run down,
he spoke to me – his voice a silky lullaby.
He took me back to where we met,
He looked at me with glee,
He knew I felt no dread,
because he knew he’s taking me.