EAT (Enemy At Therapy)

Enemy Within.

No options.

Failed verifications.

In conclusion.

No questions.

Purging actions.

Bleeding preparations.
Lines of meth.

Self destructive test.

A confined measurement.

Absurdity fed.

Addictive threat.

Kill the help.

Of rehab shed.

Insanity progress.

Happiness theft.

Misery left.

Nothing felt.

Loneliness dealt.

Blades become best friends.

Oo don’t care about yourself.

 I hate me and my existence.

Shame won’t tolerate my presence.

I want to kill myself.
I can’t ever be loved.

Because I am too much.

I self destruct.

Cut my hands to feel numb.

I was played around with my trust.

Mind fucked.

Bad luck?

Absolutely rust.

Rage burst.

Ripping deep for fun.

Dimensions spun.

Crave is a wave of lust.

And you must.

Get it done.
Just for once tell me.

How many?

Benzodiazepine,

Would it take get me relieved.

Insanity feeds.

Mental disease.

Confidence depletes.

A rush when weak.

Felt when stomach is totally empty.

Critically.

Irregularity.

In variety.

It’s totally foul.

Hateful doubts.

Kilos of cocaine, nose drowned.

Black out.

Falling down.

On the ground.

Bleeding skin and dehydrated mouth.

Written by P.S ‘PATIENT Stan’

Fear And Loathing

The mind kills people when depression is on a full time job.

Losing all.

Slowly deform.

It’s your job.

To erase your cause.

Aggression faught.

Precisely called.

Self harm born.

Destructive thoughts.

Can’t control.

Mind vindictiveness propose.

Drag the blade, it’s the cure.

Fading anger, pain pure.

Silenced shore.

Dripping more.

Blood on the floor.

Lose control.

Closed doors.

Failing pattern.

Relapsing flattens.

Total motivation.

Starving purification.

Perverse addictions,

Slaughtering medications.

Anaesthetic sensation.

Survival negation.

An unfortunate situation.

Craving the sensation.

Failed distractions.

Mind distortion.

Fear & loathing progression.

Futile life destruction.

Written by P.S ‘PATIENT Stan’

Mock Us!

Voices

1 – Society mock us.

Our own thoughts gathers dust.

Convincing that we aren’t essential.

On our knees we surrender.

No one knew that we battled depression.

We’re haunted by unknown aggression.

And our addiction eats us.

Transforming the chemicals.

Inside our brain, the anatomical formation,

It slowly weakens our position.

Profane digestion. 

How can we reach out? When there’s just accusations.
Even after we die, people mock us.

So how can we open up?

Who can we trust?

When we’re tortured by pessimism.

We’re locked in a unknown prison.

2 – For once I wish, I could open my eyes.

My reality is too damn hard to describe.

When I’ve been framed by my own lies.

There’s only one thing in my mind.

A lifeless body is just existing & my mind provokes me to die.

2 bloody sensations, hypersensitive or dead inside.
Tell me how should I fight?

Even after my death you’ll all failed to recognise.

That each breath that I took, I was getting terrified.

So I took a jump to just make it right.

But I was too sick to verify.

Just to end the pain I took that flight.

All of you abuse me but none heard my cries.

Written by P.S 

Esp. for the souls who took their own lives and the rest others, just judged them further for that itself.

Society, community, culture and with lack of understanding; people often feel threatened in a way to talk about it. It’s not upto them but us to get more involved & talk to them more often, so they feel different and more lives could be saved. Even if we fail to do so we must not mock them further.

R.I.P Arjun Bhardwaj. 

Failures Yard

Whitechapel – Mark Of The Blade

Cold heart.

Feets apart. 

Woken up sharp. 

Terrified with the dark. 

Inside the past.

Voices mark. 

Failures yard. 

 

Snort the line. 

Prepare for the ride. 

Depressed by night. 

What to fight. 

Anxiety might. 

Leave me like. 

To surely hide. 

From my own life. 

 

Addicted again. 

What to blame. 

Your choices remain. 

Uncertain to shame. 

Falling from hate. 

Drug craves. 

Blades. Blades.

Mark yourself or fail. 

Another cut to relieve the pain. 

 

Cold heart.

Feets apart. 

Woken up sharp. 

Terrified with the dark. 

Inside the past.

Voices Mark. 

Failures yard. 

Files of depair.

No one to repair. 

None seems fair. 

Dont you dare. 

Feel & crave. 

Pick up the gear. 

 

Loose the mind. 

Trying to find. 

Whats hidden behind. 

Surely not shines. 

Not at all bright. 

Deep dark nights. 

Losing all the fights. 

 

Fully relapsed. 

Never felt that has,

Happiness brand. 

So kill the jazz. 

Stamp the batch. 

Leave a match. 

Self harm dance. 

 

Reduce all of it. 

Nothing seems to refine anything.

Cutting pieces. 

Left and deleted.

Will to get defeated. 

Again performed to feel it. 

Cold heart.

Feets apart. 

Woken up sharp. 

Terrified with the dark. 

Inside the past.

Voices Mark. 

Failures yard. 

Written by P.S 

 

 


Addict

Addictive
Scene of the valley.
Has equally terrified me. 

Beginning to be. 

Secrets redeem. 

Cutting feels. 

Nasty but heals. 

Unknowingly. 

Wounds that bleed. 

Unfortunate deal. 

Which feeds. 

Insides of me. 

Scene of the valley looks pretty.

 

I’m sure that you can deliver it. 

Might be not quick. 

Surely a bit. 

Stuck shit. 

Still I will. 

fight for a gift. 

Each day lewis. 

Each wound healing shifts. 

 

I can’t loose you. 

Messed up confused.

So guide me in this loop. 

Im just pretending to be a fool. 

Still using those tools. 

Cutting out juice. 

Red blood shoes. 

Thighs again abused. 

One day at a time. 

Surely im not fine.

To A Sweet Addiction 

 

 

 A sweet addiction 

 A painful representation.

 To a sweet addiction.

Piercing vacation.

To a sweet addiction.

Help me out this junction.

To a sweet addiction.

Pain formation.

To a sweet addiction.

 

Help to doubt. 

Generally misfound. 

Hopes out. 

Again bound. 

Whats best to shout. 

Learning mouth. 

Words out loud. 

 

A painful representation.

To a sweet addiction.

Piercing vacation.

To a sweet addiction.

Help me out this junction.

To a sweet addiction.

Pain formation.

To a sweet addiction.

Razor stick. 

C’mon Bitch.

Bitter lips. 

Introvert within. 

Compulsive gym. 

Anger wins. 

Blood to chin. 

Outside gift. 

Scars itch. 

Bloody ditch!!

Ones that are scripts. 

On the arms that twitch. 

While cutting it. 

Fallen in tricks. 

Bloody tricks. 

Of sipping sin. 

On the skin. 

 

 painful representation.

To a sweet addiction.

Piercing vacation.

To a sweet addiction.

Help me out this junction.

To a sweet addiction.

Pain formation.

To a sweet addiction.

What you feel.

It’s not my deal.

Hopeless assurities.

Still not healed.

Isolated completely.

From the society.

A pure born tragedy.

Biggest loser seeking sanity.

Leave me please.

Just leave me please.

Lost opportunities.

Blades to be.

Happy???

Why happy??

painful representation.

To a sweet addiction.

Piercing vacation.

To a sweet addiction.

Help me out this junction.

To a sweet addiction.

Pain formation.

To a sweet addiction.

 

 Written by P.S 

Hands Of  Self Harmer 

When you loose your ends.
  Hands Of Self Harmer.
1)Gaining weight.Unforgiven debate.

With mind of self hate.

Failed 

Yet again 

Failed to contemplate.

In a state.

Bleeding phase.

Anger waste.

Why am I this way? ?

Doubting they,

Have screwed up anyways.

Crying shames.

Guilt days.

Wasted away.
2)What to do??

How to deal?

Builds – up feels.

Anxiety…

Purely variety.

Racing thoughts on duty.

Perception failed to beauty.

Why this way??

Can’t fade.

Stuck today.

Tomorrow’s the same.
3)Emptiness

Numbness 

Calmness

Pain west.

Best dealt.

Measured depths.

Cutting edge.

Sharper than,

Deeper!! damn!!

Bloody hands.
4)Clean up.

Water first.

Remove the leftover.

Dirty filthiest blood.

Wondering what fun.

Suppressed. One. Done.

Over

Shows over.

Hands of a self harmer.

Can’t seem to get it straight, together.

Whatever…

Misinterpreter.

Never…

Stop; 

stay better.