Everything Ends Anyways

It’s mine.

The destination.

The final curtain call,

My dream is ending,

And so am I.

I will die.

It won’t matter.

It never did.

The world goes on,

With or without me.

My choice.

My insanity.

I want it all to go away.

There is no other way,

For me to get help.

That I need.

I don’t want it anyway.

Not like it matters now,

Everything ends anyways.

Thanks, But No Thanks

Thanks.
I’ve had enough.
Why didn’t anyone care?
I thought someone would.



I wish life were fair.
No one knows where we go after this.
No one really knows where.



No thanks.
I tried to tell you.
Why didn’t anyone care?
Maybe I should instead.



There isn’t a need for me.
I’m sick of my apathy.
Every day is like this.
Everything is what it seems.



I wish life were fair.
No one knows where we go after this.
No one really knows where.



Thanks.
But no thanks.



I’ve had enough.

Other Side

This isn’t what I thought it would be.

It’s clean.

But it’s a fantasy.

I wish I had a family.

One day, maybe.




I wish for a change.

But it’s not enough.

I need to get out of here.




Far away.

A lake with calm waters.

For a change.

But it’s not enough.




Fascinating to be here.

Because it’s all a distant memory.

Now, I’m clean.




No scars.

No hurting.

The aches are gone.

The misery.




All apart of me.




But now I don’t need anything.

No Problem Solved

It never happened,

Immortality.

So close but not close enough.

A killing instead.










Of me.










I have no belongings,

Everything I have is this life.

Is me.










Now I have the upperhand,

Now, everyone else can’t have me.

I hope they all will understand.










I win the game.

I’ve won.

There was no problem.

I solved it.

I didn’t have to play the game of life.

Exit Here

Exit signs everywhere.

Exit here.

Exit there.

I’ve got to make my exit now.




I won’t be making it back to this highway again.

Because of this Cardinal sin.




My eternal suffering can exit my soul.

With just one simple choice to end it myself.




Display the emotions.

Formulaic factions.

I have nothing more to give.




No exit - no comfort.

No psychological urges.




I can finally be happy.

Dinner with a Friend (Grim Reaper)

My severed head I walk around with.




Look up to me.

While I admire death.

There’s only pain and suffering.

Every once in a while there’s joy.

An abstract beauty in a world of pain.

I adore.




Well, now it’s poetry to my ears.

To see the great beyond.

I’m here and I’m staying.

I’ve made it.




I guess a sunset is a painting.

There’s a palette of beauty.

In an early death.




Why am I not surprised it happened so fast?

It wasn’t meant to last.

It’s over.

No other.




In the dirt.

No one hurt.

A rebirth.




No.

Just another skull,




Materializing into earth.

I Wish For an End

Goddamn heart never stops.

I’ve tried everything to finish it.

Fried fatty foods, cigarettes, no exercise.

Everything except a gunshot or jumping off a building.

But maybe soon.




All I know is I wish for an end.

Is that so much to ask?

I don’t know and I don’t think so.

I’m weak.

There’s nothing left here for me anyway.

I’m trapped in a body I don’t want or deserve.




Goddamn brain never stops.

I’ve tried everything to finish it.

Terrible music, terrible movies, terrible books.

Terrible poetry.

Instead I get awarded for my contributions.

What takes me no effort to do and I get called an artist.




I wish I could.

Counterintuitive possibilities.

Suicidal Tendencies.

I’m still not flying.

So I drag my feet across your lawn.




Give me a medical review.

Judge my case.

I’ll appeal it to the end.




Until I’m dead.

Crushed Dreams

I just wanted to be somebody.

Now, I’m somebody else.

I never thought I’d be alone.

But here I am.




I wish I’d known my own thoughts.

Before I threw them all away.

My crushed dreams are me.

I’m one and alone with all of them.

There’s no more dreams.

I’d hate to have more.




The registration of my demolition.

My brains and my body.

Annihilated and immigrated into dirt.

I’m not worth it and neither is any of this.

All my dreams were just dreams.

I don’t deserve to get lucky.




It’s all fun and games until reality hits.

Then bills need paying and I’m broke.

What’s funny is I’m broke all the time anyway.

Why?

To be a fucking artist.

So some asshole can get lucky.

And here I am working a shit job to pay the bills.

Life’s not fair unless I’m pulling hairs.




I wish for dreams to never come true for me or for you.

It All Began

A superhero is a human being.

Nothing hurts, not even bullets.

What about a noose?

Self-inflicted means relief.

Now I’m a debt cleared by the banking institution.

It’s true.

It all began when life became valuable.

Suddenly, a price is put on it.

And one is prettier than the others.

So the pretty ones get sold.

And in this fantasy no one is a whore.

Except the living.




It all began with being property.

Having value.

Quality.




A human being is a superhero.

Nothing hurts, not even bullets.

What about a noose?




Self-inflicted means relief.

Under Pressure

It must be so nice to be me.

All I have to do is take it easy.

Even when others starve.

It’s so easy to turn a blind eye.




As long as it’s not me.

I can enjoy my life.

Who cares, really?

Who cares?

Really.




It must be cool to be me.

All I have to do is fake being immune.

Nothing bothers me.

There’s no pressure to act.

We’re all actors, right?




As long as it’s not me.

I can enjoy my life.

Who cares, really?

Who cares?

Really.




It must be so fun to be me.

All I have to do is… cry.

Even when others… die.

It’s so easy to not care.




As long as it’s not me.

I can enjoy my life.





Who cares, really?

Who cares?




Really.

Started Well

Celebrations and birds flying high.

I don’t remember ever being so happy.





Then I got a brain, and my happiness left.





I never thought it would be something that fails.

But it did and now I’m now done.





Oh, wait.

It looks like I have to deal with it all.

For a very long time.





It hurts me the most.

And I can’t even give it to anyone else.

While they have celebrations.

With their birds flying oh so high.





I’m dirt beneath their feet.

I was the revolution.

I can’t be the absolution.

If I’m forgotten.





Enjoy your freedom.

Mine is in another place.


Far from here.