Modern life

Got us walking around in delusory states, constant consumption of artificial intake

You cannot make a house a home

But you can make a house a hell

not love

Tired of walking on the moon for you

Floating away lost in space

Constantly confused

Losing gravity.

Just for you

dirty laundry

Stains all over my clothes

Stains all over my soul

its a tragic thing I like to do;

become the thing you want most & then walk away from you

ecstasy

The ecstasy was shattering. It was much too much of a thing.

It was emptying. Leaving no room for… no space for… no-thing left for any-thing else.

Your love was much too much for me. It was blinding, it hurt! It hurt! It split me up; open and out, it made me fall out of myself!

Consumed.

No room.

To move.

No space.

To breathe.

Blinded.

I couldn’t see!

Ecstasy.

And you–

There was no room.

It was suffocating.

Overwhelmed with joy.

Ecstasy, another way to destroy.

It destroyed me.

I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle love.

Couldn’t digest it.

Too thick.

Too solid.

Too opaque.

I couldn’t see through.

Blinded! I tell you! I couldn’t see!

 

It was all just much too much of a thing for me.

I said goodbye to you in a dream last night

 

 

 

hurting me to help you.

You look at me as if I have all the answers or can solve all your problems for you at a whim. But you never listen. Here’s the thing. All your problems you could solve by yourself. But you don’t really want help. Just want to sink into yourself. And complain of how bad and awful and how horrid it is. And “look at how the world did me in! I didn’t deserve this! and how come I never win?”. But the sad truth is. You do it to yourself. Just like almost everyone else. And I know you’re never really asking me for help. And it hurts to play pretend so much so please just leave me out. Cause I actually want to get out of this sinking ship and you just want to keep pulling me back in. 

if i’m honest

you made me feel like ghost

like an invader in your home

 

on knowing a narcissist

I see what you do, how you take people and convince them to worship you.

and do what you do, and live like you too.

does it make you feel special? to see someones sparkling eyes look up to you as you know you’ll squish them down to tiny bits eventually, you know you’ll make them feel like they don’t exist eventually, you know you’ll leave them lost in parts and scarred, and left with tainted hearts.

but doesn’t it feel good to preach and control and to lead the weak?

you pity these people who look up to you, what poor souls, they would be so utterly lost without you.