terça-feira, 20 de março de 2012

Turn me off.

- Im tired.
- Get some rest.
- I cant rest.
- Why?
- I just... cant.
- Aren't you tired?
- Im always tired.
- So go and get some rest.
- I CANT rest.
- Why?
- I never rest.
- But you are always sleeping.
- ... but never resting.
- I dont get it.
- Yeah, me neither.

sexta-feira, 16 de março de 2012

To say goodbye and never look back has never been so easy. Cant find myself home anywhere, cant feel fulfilled; its never enough, im never pleased. What once was good is now nothing but routine, and what once was shit is getting worse everyday, and i cant drown my mind like that, watch it die like it was nothing. My heart is already too spoiled to heal, and im afraid to need to tell the same about all the rest.

domingo, 30 de outubro de 2011


I wish i could say I'm too strong or that I've got too much pride to get sad about certain things, but the shit is I'm not, and i still cant deal with some people's selfishness. How can they just don't care? I guess that's exactly the key, maybe that's why every single motherfucker in this goddamn world always seems so damn happy and annoyingly pleased with their crummy little lives. I cant even count on my fingers how many times while bursting in tears i begged to know how it feels like, to look at my own belly and it just feel enough, to be indifferent about people's feelings as long as I'm alright, to do not absorb people's pain and make it my own to just be able to fight it with them. I prayed, I begged, but I couldn't do it, and I still cant, maybe cuz I'm too nice to, or too dumb, nevermind, because I just found how unspeakable disgusting it is, and how unimaginable worthless I would feel. So yes, I prefer to be miserable, to suffer, to bleed, to set a fight to be able to breathe for every single day in this motherfuckin' life, as long as I never wake up in the morning and stare myself in the mirror knowing I'm just like them. But yet more than ever I hope, and goddammit how I crave for it, that one day these people will not be able to lay on their own backs to sleep to pay for every night their victims have lost trying to heal undeserved wounds, and its gonna haunt them, and hurt them, and derange them, and the regret is gonna eat them like fucking maggots. And when this day come, bitch... it is when I laugh, and you cry.

All these things that you've done for me, have left me so... fucking tired. I'm not saying that you haven't done a lot of good, but if there's one thing you can do, you can bleed for me, bleed for me..

segunda-feira, 24 de outubro de 2011

Walking dead

As quick as a bullet in her head, departure feeling strikes her again, like a cyanide cocktail to her already damaged brain.

Every moment and every word, every laugh and every chord, every lie she took like a newborn in her arms, singing lullabies heard by no one but her own illusions, which now haunt her without a rest.

'You are everything I need', he says to her built human grave, while she watches by the door, tears falling for these words she always wanted to hear becoming dirty and spoiled, wasted with another pathetic plastic doll.

Like a burning knife in her heart, it aches harder with every breathe, as she desperately punches her chest which is now nothing but an open cage to sorrow, ready to be fulfilled by angry maggots of rage.

Bleeding body to match her bleeding soul, just another scar to collect, nothing but a new reason for seclusion, bringing back the wounded child she thought has been dilute by her fake-smile-pills.

And all the songs she cant no longer sing, and all the melodies she cant no longer play, and all the words she cant no longer hear, and all the poems she cant no longer say, and all the feelings she cant no longer face... it all lies in a cemetery that bears his name.

"Behind these eyes self destruction swims through my mind
I'm confusion and contempt, I am the void
You are the emptiness of black tomorrow
I feel so hollow"

domingo, 23 de outubro de 2011

The grave

Till my light be able to shine
Till my eyes be able to see again
Till my head stop to ache
Till these tears stop to fall
Till this hate stop to eat me
Till your ghost stop to haunt me
Till my dreams fade in departure
Till these wasted plans turn to dust
Till i get buried alive by this feeling
Till this battered heart stops beating...


..I can wait...

... Till i get killed by love again.

"Love's the funeral of hearts, an ode for cruelty,
When angels cry blood
n flowers of evil in bloom"

segunda-feira, 3 de outubro de 2011

Two wor(l)ds.

"This is my last chance to make things right", she kept saying to herself after that 40 minutes talk with a total stranger. This stranger wasn't just a stranger. It happened to be that person she never thought she would met, cuz "who in hell would agree with those fuckeries created in my mind?" she kept in her mind for 17 years of a lifetime. But then, i must repeat, a total stranger out of nowhere happened to be this person, and she could realise it in 40 fucking minutes. Nothing else, nothing less.
As days passed by the stranger was no longer so stranger, or at least she thought it wasn't. She have always loved "too much and too soon", but this time it was like her personal record. With the blink of an eye that no-longer-so-stranger was a part of her life, and she couldn't handle a whole day without it. Talking about random stuffs has never been so nice, and so necessary, and luckily she wasn't the only one to agree with that. "Give me back the life you stole", he would say to her everyday when it was already too late for them to be talking, and no one was up to end it anyway, cuz they just couldn't. There was never been such an incredible connection before, and she felt it, THEY felt it, and for the first time in her life she was actually optimist about something. "It is him. It gotta be".
As she watches that friendship in her heart turn into something more, the so-called-the-one started to show the same.


Things has never been so right, and she was never so sure. "He's the first, and I've never been so sure about it." she found herself thinking, which actually scared her a bit, but she didn't care, cuz "He's too good to be truth", was also in her mind. As days kept passing by things were getting better and better, and what was only this awkward amount of friendship and desire has turned to passion. Passion? She wish! It was actually LOVE. That four letter word she hated more than anything.


Suddenly things wasn't going so right anymore, and what once seemed to be both-side, was now unilateral. "No. Not again. Not anymore." What was heaven turned to hell in a second. Just like many times before she has been forgotten, like if she never existed. No more talks, no more calls, no more messages, no more nothing, just this emptiness and silence that has been left.


Pain. Lots of it. "What the hell happened?", raped her mind every single second, and even in dreams she wasn't allowed to find some peace, cuz he was also there, and everywhere, and his smell, and his voice, and every second they shared. It was always there, haunting her, and she doesn't even knows what to do with so much rejected feelings right now. She also still doesn't know the reason behind it all, and probably never will, and she will never get it too, cuz someone who has been so hurt like he seems to be could never reject something so real and health. But like i said, she knows anything anymore. The only thing she knows is that this feeling is avoiding to say good bye as easily as he did.