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Satan called me spineless

devil-1008391

Hypnotized by the alluring midnight black flowing hair

mimicking the curtains blowing in the ocean’s breath,

I’ve never had such a beautiful image of Satan

as I do right now, as I compose the symphony of my death.

I’m not someone who fancies the ideologies of satanism,

though he is who lurks when I am looking for a friend,

why wouldn’t you want to talk to someone with expertise

in constructing a scene as melodramatic as your end?

It’s not like I have a poor sense of direction or imagination,

it’s just that I get so fixated on the methods that I do NOT like,

for instance, stoning or drowning in a pool filled with sharks,

not fond of guns, asphyxiation or stabbing with a spike.

I tend to obsess over the things that I don’t want to happen

instead of making happen the dreams that I wish,

I’d just hate to have to come to grips with growing soft inside

I wouldn’t want to be remembered as a spineless jellyfish.

 

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 
 

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Rooms 12 and 13

Straight black hair with uneven self-cut bangs

large red-rimmed glasses too big for your face,

red lipstick a shade lighter, painted high on your lip

dark pink scars on your wrist, elegantly wrapped in lace.

Visible circles around your eyes show signs of stress

many nights you stay up crying, hardly ever sleep,

desperately praying for it to all be over, in exchange

the lord may take away and have your soul to keep.

Is it a cry for help because of your failure to succeed?

Or are you just trying it on, to see if it fits you well?

I personally understand as I have been there before,

after anonymously giving a false name at a roadside motel.

I laid in a tub, knife in hand unknowing of these feelings,

in the adjacent room you sit crying, I now wish I knew,

I could have invited you over to have a drink with me,

together we could have helped the other, follow through.

Drowning02

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson @ WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 

 

 
 

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Just a year ago…

If you had seen me

Just a year ago,

The boy inside

you wouldn’t know.

The foolish ways

I would act and dress,

Only to “make” you

feel so impressed.

The games I played

the lies I spoke,

So full of shit

I began to choke.

It all began to spill

onto the floor,

I just couldn’t seem

to lie anymore.

I had failed to hide

the hate in me,

the shaking had shown

through anxiety.

My cover was blown

the jig was up,

I was now forced

to say it’s enough.

The tears would start

I wouldn’t know why,

Even when I was mad

I’d start to cry.

The feelings were mixed

the reasons were screwed,

and most would’ve agreed

my views were so skewed.

Fantasies of death

raced through my head,

the smile would grow

as I envisioned me dead.

The voice in my mind

would plead and beg,

I had even playfully jabbed

a knife in my leg.

Just to see

how it would feel,

an orgasmic feeling

of sharpened cold steel.

Pathetically made a list

of the family I’d miss,

as I traced with that blade

the veins in my wrist.

 

So….

If you had seen me

Just a year ago,

The boy inside

You wouldn’t, have wanted to know..

 

 

© 2018 Joseph Emerson WhatsInsideAMadmansHat.com

 

 
15 Comments

Posted by on January 2, 2018 in Mental Health, poetry, writing

 

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