Crumbling

I want to tear my flesh apart.

How could you explain to someone who could not understand what you're going through? 

How could you tell them that you cannot for the love of Life stand your reflection in the mirror? 

How could you tell them that you cannot stand the very idea of you, the very brain you have?

How could you explain that you perceive your words to be twisted, an endless stream of lies and horror?

How do you face the coming night and the nightmares lurking in the shadows, ready to rip you apart?

How?.....

I want to tear my flesh apart. 

I want to make myself bleed. I need to feel the sting of self-loathing engulf me and numb my head.

I want to get rid of every trace of my being, churn it like butter, remain outside as I live inside.

A constant turmoil, a constant pain, with a face too dry to be able to cry the tears of relief. 

Nothing but pure agony, and silent tears at night curled up in my bed, or screams I cannot let out. 

I want to tear my flesh apart just so I would cease to exist finally. 

How do you explain this? How could you make them understand? 

Perhaps through the use of poetry, the use of words that are often ignored and overlooked. 

Perhaps... 

The desire for violence and the understanding that I am the only master of my catastrophe mix up

The desire to punish me for even breathing in a world that wasn't supposed to welcome me clings

The desire for the sweet relief of celestial beratement for my existence is calling me, teasing me

I am tempted to let myself slip, perhaps this time I wouldn't be useless and would hit the mark.

Perhaps this time I would be able to expiate the sin of my very existence. Perhaps I could hurt myself.

Through pain comes absolution and through absolution comes relief. I'm looking for relief.

I want to tear my flesh apart...

I want to get my comeuppance, finally, have someone tell me I deserve what's coming.

I guess that's the twisted words that decided to escape from my mind today, yesterday... tomorrow

I know those are the twisted words I need to fend off, push back, protect myself from.

I'm not a failure, I'm not a burden, I guess the small world that is my loved ones would mind my death.

I'm just exhausted, and so easily tempted. I'm just exhausted and unable to see through the smoke.

I'm just exhausted and crumbling from deep within.

Crumbling like a sandcastle, until somehow I build myself back up again. 

A sandcastle, how fitting...How terrifying... How true.