PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Wake up being sick and belittled from the night terrors that look down on my conscience. Tremors and shakes crawling over my pale fragile skin. Sweat and tears poring from bloodshot eyes. All because what I witness in my dreams. Call me crazy of my own design. Secrets whisper through my own mind. When push comes to shove I take any pill I can find. Swallow my pride until I am no longer hollow. As these feelings fill my stomach. Yet not quenchable. So it comes back up. A little less refined. Should I leave my head behind? I need closure with all these monsters running rabid in my own mind. Sinking their teeth and gouging their claws into my flesh walls. They are digging at my skull from the inside out. They are escaping out my mouth and they show their reflection in my mirrors. Screams fall on def ears. As they leave little aspersion to fight all of these fears. Blank pages. Black stains of ink leaving trails of past plagues. Patterned tragedies. Words of describing wanderlust wastelands and directions to its innermost sanctums. Wrong doings provide wisdom. More trauma. More The human becomes a Dahli Llama of his personal trails. It leaves much complexion. I am trudging through weakness. I feel as if I could be quickly aging. Instant truth. Wasted youth. Time shreds and destroys many memories of minutes well spent. Vanishing in smoke and lack of rapid eye movement. Sleep deprived. Less potential likewise. I gaze into nothing with blank stares. Cheap thrills kills calamity but causes me to beg for mercy from these rising tides. No ones hides. These creatures inside our eyes. hear and see all. We cant distance ourselves from ourselves. Running is not plausible Fear not. Fight or flight. Its truly only one option. The other is death. But thats only when you decide you cant rebuild the bridges in your savage tundra frozen mind. Deserted. Devastated lands. Where no life resides. Call upon reasons to why its best to leave everything behind. Is it worth it to feel perfect all the time? For when that perfect since hits a stasis to the lack of payments to numb inducing pills to let you paralyze your chills witch seemingly feels like it kills. Where are we to find a balance in a world with no ordinance as we act in insubordinate as protection from self violence and hate. Reflections. Recollections of dead memories that rush back to your head while laying in bed. Self created hell. Self assurance only for your lack of self worth. Ive been to these places a few times in my mind. Low blows and troubles in personal battles. Pulling knives out of your own skin that you your own-self sunk into your own back. Fighting with yourself. You always over react. Nothing is based on facts. Only feeling that chemically react and explode into storms and tornados that real havoc inside your skin. Set fire to your landscapes and boiled blood work. Ransack your organs taking your breathe and shattering your ribs As you gasp in such vigorous ways you cant but give into the pain. And insane. It might be. We can never be all together ever so slightly. Humans we might be. But were all vermin. Were all rapid. Nothing more than rodents infecting this world and causing erosion. My pain is no worse than yours and your no worse than mine. We fight separately in one world. I kill you I am killing myself. I kill me. I am killing you. Vicious cycles. Peace exists in no mind. Were all murderers in our own minds. We kill our conscience with anything we can find. We are all out of line. Fervor for lust and we love everything we will never find in us. We are all fucking nuts.