Ticking Time Bomb

BPD is never in the middle. (Extreme High-low)



Theme – 

Mental Illnesses.

Eating Disorders.

Borderline Personality Disorder.

Depression.

Anxiety.

Self Harm.

Addiction.

Facts




1 – Dawn.

“C’mon.”

Mocks.

Sensitivity Shocks.

Trigger Talks.

Hawks.

Bleed a hell lot.

Abandoned in this ball.

Break bones on the wall.

Borderline brought.

Rail track hot.

Problems unsolved. 

Box locked.

Chain of infinite thoughts. 

Walking across.

With substances in default.

With substance withdrawals.

With addiction caught.

Like a Suicidal corpse.

Like a dead rot.

Like a ticking time bomb.
2 – Self Destruction to define.

To numb the mind.

Out bursting in diet.

“No problem! I’m fine.”

Established relationship reply.

Opening up appears to terrify.

Can’t cry.

But always a swollen eye.

Angry fights.

Angry bites.

Again dying.

Again lying.

Hide.

Silently died.

From the inside.

Fan guide.

Knot appears bright.

Guilt oblige.

Fright.

Wide.

Time.

Puppet prime.

Controlling crime.

One more cut please, to stabilise!

Long Sleeve to cover up all the lies.
3 – Shame Filled.

Overkill. 

Manic thrill.

Of blade drill.

Self medicating until,

10 deep openings are done on skin.

Piercing steel pins.

Experimental self harm of anaesthetics.

Addictively pathetic.

Impulsively picked. 

Give up! You Prick! 

Hide that you’re actually sick.

Razor marking maladaptive.

Sedative,

That’s effective.

Borderline self destructive.

Everyday variations in mood swings.

Ultimately the enemy wins.

Self Harm swim.
4 – Caffeine Relays.

Hunger delayed.

Anxiously behaved.

Smash that food filled plate.

Chewed Up Brain.

Totally Frail.

Eat your own damn-bam pain.

Only option left of intakes.

For the strike, it awaits.

Open eyes! It wakes.

Occupied substance waste.

Depression Date.

Lonely with just blades.

Loving them anyways. Every way. 

Insomnia phase.

Functioning rage.

Functional self hate.

Food Jail!

Disgust of weight machine scales.

Smash that food filled plate! 

Smash that food filled plate!

 

5 – Dawn.

“C’mon.”

Mocks.

Sensitivity shocks.

Trigger Talks.

Hawks.

Bleed a hell lot.

Abandoned in this ball.

Break bones on the wall.

Borderline brought.

Rail track hot.

Problems unsolved. 

Box locked.

Chain of infinite thoughts. 

Walking across.

With substances in default.

With substance withdrawals.

With addiction caught.

Like a Suicidal corpse.

Like a dead rot.

Like a ticking time bomb.

 

Positives

Written By P.S.

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Horror Horizon

Blood Madness, Silent Noise!
Mental Chaos Of Social Anxiety Disorder.

Horror Horizon
Written By P.S.
Theme – Depression.

Eating Disorders.

Anxiety.

Self Harm.

Phobia.
1 – He’s super stressed.

He’s super depressed.

Paranoia Press.

Dissociation progress.

Anxiously present.

Imaginary dependance. 

Delusional torments.

Filling up dead rodents.

Silent then suddenly violent.

Unknown enemy, unknown friend.

Can’t sit here, can’t stay patient.

Head-Horror-Horizon dent.
2 – Irrational Fear.

False accusations are here.

Getting ready to pierce.

Paranoia sets near.

Psychotic behavior.

What to do now? Mirror Meaner.

Scales Cleaner.

Phobia Premiere. 

Madness tear.

Distortion team curve.

Blade Adjusts.

This ruckus.

Blade Adjusts.

Punch it! Bloody shit! Punch!!!

Blade Adjusts.

Dissolution Cut.

Blade Adjusts.

Wrenching gut.

Blade Adjusts.

Medicative Mud.

Blade Adjusts.

Horror thuds.

Blade Adjusts.

With parallels.
3 – Socially Dead.

An odd Co incidence.

Victimized lens.

Emotional imbalance.

Horror Ambulance.

Self despised detachment. 

Anxious Severance.

Bubbling tolerance.

Unstable mood variance.

Logical Divergence.

Panic sets at night’s crescent.

Guilty!!!, Hence,

How to repent?

How to seek penance?

Only shinning judgement.

Seems to be the logical engagement.

Seems to be the only slapping derailment.

From The Hell of existence.
4 – Self Harmer Carelessly Swinged.  

Triggering mind kills.

Blades Never Quit.

Skeptic Disk.

Focusing Risk.

Mind Kicked.

Body Ditched.

Nasty Hits.

Pressurised drifts.

On the skin.

Opening terrific.

Flesh Filth.

You deserve it.

You imperfect brick.

You fat quilt.

Burdened with food guilt.

Purge! till head your absolutely spins. 

Starve! till eyes can’t meet the mist.
5 – Blade Adjusts.

This ruckus.

Blade Adjusts.

Punch it! Bloody shit! Punch!!!

Blade Adjusts.

Dissolution Cut.

Blade Adjusts.

Wrenching gut.

Blade Adjusts.

Medicative Mud.

Blade Adjusts.

Horror thuds.

Blade Adjusts.

With parallels.
6 – He’s super stressed.

He’s super depressed.

Paranoia Press.

Dissociation progress.

Anxiously present.

Imaginary dependance. 

Delusional torments.

Filling up dead rodents.

Silent then suddenly violent.

Unknown enemy, unknown friend.

Can’t sit here, can’t stay patient.

Head-Horror-Horizon dent.

 

 

Failed

…Smother Another Failure! Lay this to rest. Console yourself, you’re better alone. Destroy yourself, see who gives a fuck! Absorb yourself, you’re better Alone. Destroy yourself!!! (Laid To Rest By Lamb Of God)

Written By P.S.

Theme – Madness.

Depression.

Anxiety.

Self Harm.

Addiction.

Low self esteem.
(Trigger Warning/Explicit)
1 – Failed! Failed! Failed!

To exactly communicate.

Emotional rape.

Nauseous hate.

Toxic trade.

Blasting rate.

Of mind pain.

Of mind shame.

Loops obtained.

Weakened to faint.

Tainted paint.
2 – What have you done?

Can’t you just self destruct?

“You empty mug”.

“You empty cup”.

“You’ll fail trust!”.

“You fail and rust!”.

Like a useless junk.

Like a rotting dump.

Fun becomes.

Terrifying bumps. 

Lane jump.

Accidental numb.
3 – Fear unknown.

Something not told.

Last remaining remote.

How to hope?

How much cold.

When your soul is sold.

To evil evokes.

Failing to erode.

Speeding on a holes filled road.

Thoughts hold.

To a blade provoke.

And emotions mould.
4 – Anxious nights.

Petrified.

Immobilized.

Horrified.

Paralyzed.

How to describe?

Dimensional cries.

Help dies.

Guilt rise.

Sharp dice.

Pain alive.

A war void.

A war wide.

A shoot sight.

A lost fight.

Relieved mind.

Erasing time.

Disguised!

In A While.
5 – Failed! Failed! Failed!

To exactly communicate.

Emotional rape.

Nauseous hate.

Toxic trade.

Blasting rate.

Of mind pain.

Of mind shame.

Loops obtained.

Weakened to faint.

Tainted paint.

The Reject

Bhassam hain sab!!!

1 – I am the cheapest.

I am the weakest.

I am the tree nest.

Of ill treatment.

Neat pegs.

Addiction pet. 

Self destruct test.

The Reject.

I am the reject.

2 – Lonely.

Why were you only?

Left with such negativity,

Collapsed heaps.

Borderline Creep.

No sleep.

No dreams.

Can’t meet their eyes. 

Can’t see. 

Can’t feel.

Hydration on low self esteem.

Relapse deeds.

A big sharp shiny steel.

Guilt to the appeals.

Nothing reveals.

Silent screams.

Addiction supreme.

3 – Abandonment victory.

What do you believe?

“A stranger” from the Joker’s philosophy.   

Traces to heal, 

Traces to treat.

BLEED…Moron, FREAK…

Bleed…

Without any pity.

BLEED…Moron, FREAK…

Just bleed.

To treat,

to meet, 

to reach, 

to keep, 

Purposefully.

Atrociously. 

Evil keys.

Of a sanity peace.

Survival grease. 

Leaking gently.

Bandaged hankee.

Still blood red, bed sheets.

Morning peel. 

4 – I am the cheapest.

I am the weakest.

I am the tree nest.

Of ill treatment.

Neat pegs.

Addiction pet.

Self destruct test.

The Reject.

I am the reject.

5 – Alienated.

Isolated.

Unfilterated.

Hated.

Wasted.

Emotions, pasted.

Red fucking humiliate.

Gather around for the race.

Another phase.

Abductive mind games.

Never stops, begun to chase.

What’s your fucking name?

Stan…you’re a big shame.

So now, MAIM.

Maim Motherfucker Maim.

Somehow, escape.

This base.

Failed.

When you’re late.

But Dirt is paid.

Of guilty mistakes.

Self Harm seems to be the only way.

Live your dark days.

But uncertainty remains.

With Slow, poisonous, death’s pace.

6 – I am the cheapest.

I am the weakest.

I am the tree nest.

Of ill treatment.

Neat pegs.

Addiction pet.

Self destruct test.

The Reject.

I am the reject.

Written By ‘Patient’ Stan. (P.S)

 

Red Coloured Paint (I.A.P.G. Impulse, Action, Pleasure, Guilt)

Impulse (Noun)

A strong and unreflective urge or desire to act.

Action (Noun)

The fact or process of doing something; typically to achieve an Aim.

Pleasure (Noun)

A feeling of happy satisfaction or  enjoyment.

Guilt (Noun)

The fact of having committed something wrong or have implied failure, offence or crime.

Credits: SATI_TheMystique.

Red Coloured Paint (I.A.P.G)
1 – Where will you go?

How will you cope?

When there’s just a fan and a sight of a rope.

And it turns to only one of your remaining last hope.

You start writing suicide notes.

In guilt, when the pain is more.

Earlier than before.
2 – What will you ask for?

Fucking end it all.

With a final call.

A call to make you shock.

A shock to make you knock.

A knock to make you empty like a rock.

An empty rock to make you small.

So small to make you end the pain cause.

A pain cause to build your walls.

With those walls, your mind mauls.

Bloody body is hauled.

Depression knot.

Anxiety clot.

Self harm mock.

Insomniac brawl.
3 – How will you stop?

How will you solve?

How ill, will you fall?

Ravaging dissolve.

Impulse – A Loop, a ball.

A vicious weavement of thoughts.

An Agent Of Chaos.

Action – An arousing pod.

Pleasure – A seductive boss.

Guilt – The splash of the sauce.

Drip – drip.

A releived grin.

Across my chin.

Just lose it.

And stains fill.

Blood on my nail prints.

This man who’s accusative.

Shine of the sedative, palliative.

Mind repetitive.

Screaming,”rule of 10 hits.

You fat bitch!!!

Why did you ingested?”.
Old nightmares haunts with a butcher’s knife.

A rope appearing nearer and nearer with that dreadful smile.

I might kill myself tonight.

Because nothings alright.

So I’ll become the sacrifice.

Modified,

To vice.
4 – It’s no more a game.

When scars begin to fade.

The urges make you vulnerable in shame.

Night time makes,

To lose my shades.

A tool innate.

A tool intricate.

Chugging down liquor generates. 

Unlimited wage.

Of severe self hate.

Precision of my mistakes.

Played, replayed.

Mind Slaved.

Human brain.

Impulse – You can’t wait.

Action – Objection is sustained.

Pleasure – Draining the pain.

Guilt – And the devil rapes.

Time to time, again and again.

Until he mutilates. 

Until I suffocate.

In a RED COLOURED PAINT.
5 – In depth.

My blade lies beside my bed.

A bleeding fest.

Cheek bones bruised red.

From rapid punching of myself.

Only exhaustion left.

Something begins to fade my present.

From the torment.

As many, and when I make more dents.

On my ugly flesh.

Borderline refreshed.

Necessary evil exponent.

Impulse – Self Harm Savage.

Mental Mallet.

Action – Depression Valid.

Tool – kit, Solid.

Pleasure – Annihilation Jotted.

Areas Spotted.

Guilt – Emotions Distraughted.

Visions Distorted.

RED PAINT KNOWLEDGE.

Written By P.S

Pick Up A Blade

1 – Perforate.
Circumspection re-generates.

The one thing you can’t debate.

It dominates.

It’s how they parade.

And they won’t explain.

Until you pick up a blade.

Appears like a bouquet. 

A fragrance that promises to eliminate.

Whatever you pain.

Whatever chews your brain.

Eroding to complicate.

When you pick up a blade.
2 – Digestion frail.

Of better intake.

Everyday when you make.

A promise to yourself that you won’t break.

But till evening there’s just shame.

A provisional trace.

A guaranteed provoke leading to damage.

Whenever you pick up a blade.
3 – This Hate.

This Fate.

This Phase.

What I write is what I live with every single day.

Shamed.

Ashamed.

Guilty Case.

When I will present, you won’t be able to tolerate.

This fuming internalised rage.

Toxically rapes.

Addictevly operates.  

Inside a Mind Cage.
4 – Preferring to turn to a waste.

Battling the race.

Figuratively a broken vase.

Burning concentrates.

Liquid shakes.

Blade pain.

Adrenaline craves.

Nasty marks that fades.

The Mind, The Emotion, The Surface.

Relaxed Base.

Fundamental temperament staring in my face.

Powerfully hallucinate.

Carelessly penetrate. 

Damaged, despised remains.

Anxious in my zone, in my space, in my place.

Whenever I pick up a blade.

Written By P.S

Inexplicably Inevitable

1 – Seen you’ve survived.

So now let’s destroy your night.

Don’t be terrified.

I’m just here for a while.

But I’ll molest you deep from the inside.

Where you won’t be able to recognise.

That I…

Will rip you blind.

So you can carve fine.

Parallel lines.

Failed fight.

High like…

Never mind.

I’m fine.

2 – Sometimes a bubble wrap.

Is all you have.

When you’re getting smashed.

Just too FUCKING fat.

Get yourself trapped.

Kill yourself & never comeback.

Because you’re full of crap.

A monologue in total contact.

Tolerance bursts to act.
3 – Get away from me.

How can you love a freak?

Who is ought to destruct himself completely.

Isolation doesn’t feel lonely.

Sometimes it provides security.

Inexicably.

Inevitably.

Inexpressibly.

When you succeed to hurt me.

Coping becomes nasty.

But I deserve it anyways, no need!

I’m dying already.

Get away from me.

Let me act in, toxically.

Sprinting those razors atrociously.

A wave of silence spreading softly.
Written By P.S. ‘PATIENT’ Stan.