Aroused

It’s True.

Written By P.S.

Theme – Depression.

Anxiety.

Self harm.

Eating disorders.

Addiction.
(Trigger Warning)
1 – Everything Blacks – out.

Every contact is foul.

Don’t interact, with your mouth.

Destructively operating and everything shuts down.

Smack yourself against the crowd.

Of societal  nouns.

Of societal grounds.

Lowering standards of self doubts.

Again getting strong & loud.

Self Harmer temptedly aroused.
2 – It’s all about the blade must.

It’s all about the blade thrust.

It’s all about that relieving rush. 

It’s all about the deep burst.

It’s all about the guilt worst.

It’s all about the scenery of blood shrugs.

Every time cursed.

Every time rubbed.
3 – Binged and purged.

Weakening submerged.

Dissociative serves.

To body and nerves.

Strange voices heard.

They begin to learn.

Your weakest turn.

Making you burn.

Making you concerned.

Making you follow its instructions.

Vile junction.

Bile abruption.

Nauseous proportions.

Digestive food abortions.

Blacking out cautions.
4 – Helpless Cope.

Hopeless bowl.

Never been told.

How to hold?

This chokes.

This pokes.

Out of control.

But the most.

Illogically – logical, inner feeding host.

Vulnerably gropes.

Strong gripness and furious hold.

Blood cone.

Blood enroll.

Brain sold.

Cognitions torn.

Gun reload.

Trigger Rode.

Failure phone.

Of unnheard moans.
5 – Everything Blacks – out.

Every contact is foul.

Don’t interact, with your mouth.

Destructively operating and everything shuts down.

Smack yourself against the crowd.

Of societal  nouns.

Of societal grounds.

Lowering standards of self doubts.

Again getting strong & loud.

Self Harmer temptedly aroused.

Into The Wild By Erin Hunter.
Advertisements

Quiet

Mahadev 🙏 (S)

Quiet.
Written By P.S.
Theme – Depression.

Anxiety.

Addiction.

Self Harm.

Eating Disorders. 

Mental Health.

(Trigger Warning)

1 – Riot.

Tired.

Anxiety liar.

Insomnia fire.

Blade desire.

Urges higher.

Urges hired.

Blood drier.

Abnoxious surveilled diets.

Everything remains quiet.

Just tired

Just quiet.

2 – Cinematic gleam.

Collapsed heaps.

Bleeding gently.

Bleeding everyday, every week.

Dirty deeds.

Dripping on feet.

Guilt regimes.

Painful screams.

Extraordinary scene.

Of suppressing, relief lean.

Depression clean.

Everything’s red but, the world is again green.

Quietly bring a team.

Bring your needs.

And fall down on your knees.

Bangs on self esteem.

Madness speaks.

Damn! How weak?

How are you so weak??

3 – Riot.

Tired.

Anxiety liar.

Insomnia fire.

Blade desire.

Urges higher.

Urges hired.

Blood drier.

Abnoxious surveilled diets.

Everything remains quiet.

Just tired.

Just quiet.
4 – Trigger table.

Damaged cable.

Vicious enable.

No! Good night, later.

“Haha”, laughs of evil favor.

Nasty galaxy crater.

Supreme fader.

Hate irritator.

Impulse surrender.

Action mender.

Pleasure seductor. 

Guilt rupture.

Possessive structures.
5 – Black and white.
Just fight.

This height.

Misfunctional device.

Vehicle seat belt tight.

On a driving night.

Switch on your headlights.

This is gonna be a nasty ride.

And you might,

You might not even cry.

After its done absolutely right.

Flying like a kite.

Black and white.

Don’t worry! Chew and bite.
6 – Riot.

Tired.

Anxiety liar.

Insomnia fire.

Blade desire.

Urges higher.

Urges hired.

Blood drier.

Abnoxious surveilled diets.

Everything remains quiet.

Just tired.

Just quiet.

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

Horrors Of Reality 

Addiction base

 

Man is totally greedy. 

Everyone’s an enemy. 

A business deal. 

Or captivating future breed. 

Self hate begins to feed. 

A disgusted feel. 

No empathy. 

No assurities. 

No hopefull deeds. 

  

The Horrors of reality. 

 

Burning every essence. 

Inside a predators presence. 

Failed system, creeping ignorance. 

Once again you totally depend. 

The blanket is inside the shelf. 

Take it out and survive one more day in hell. 

Pain is a good temperament.

It latches onto your belief. 

Can’t interpret the combustible heat. 

Now you can see. 

Closed eyes, in my dreams. 

 

I feel,  

The horrors of reality. 

 

It’s late

I wanted to give my best friend my blade. 

I did not realise that I was too late. 

I was unknown of his own games. 

He smiled back and shined his blade on my face. 

I was dissapointed in myself and wanted myself to blame.

That’s how It all again started for me, once again.

I was clean for so long & now it is just worsening the case. 

I wished the best for you but not this way. 

Pain was my addiction and now it’s his escape. 

One of my hardest to explain. 

This is the reality I came back to where I trade. 

Temporary but certainly I feel my recovery is a waste. 

You’re a temporary customer today. 

But you will soon need it everyday. 

When hate will dissolve in with pain. 

I’m so sorry my friend, but I did not ever mean to see you in a similar state. 

But I know It’s too late. 

 

Written by P.S 

Loner By Anxiety 

It doesn’t get better by just merely saying.
Don’t ever leave someone halfway out in the cold.

1 – Isolated destiny. 

Victim to a variety. 

Maximised to tragedies.

Defiled by profanity. 

Peripheries of insanity. 

Disguised in duality. 

Cutting to negativity.

Relapsing to recovery. 

Held back from clarity. 

Rejected by tall trees. 

Which are filled with vanity. 

Casted by their shadows angrily. 

Ultimately. 

Sheltered by a lady. 

A dark unkown entity. 

Who seems to follow & drain me. 

Loner By Anxiety. 

 

2 – Day to day. 

Everything seems to fail. 

Cold yet not brave. 

Held in hand to waste. 

Mind brutally raped. 

A vicious pain. 

Concluding to fade. 

Thrust of a blade. 

Nothing remains. 

When there is shame. 

Dripping blood makes it all go away. 

Thoughts again elevate. 

Destructively they debate. 

Another crave. 

Simply to maintain. 

To decrease the outrage.

Killed by self hate. 

Meter to tolerate. 

Exceeding to operate. 

Cutting again and again. 

 

3 – Eat less. 

It becomes a test. 

Losing becomes a zest. 

A mind – slave to the rest. 

Obidience is the crest.

Endangered bird inside the nest.

Purpose to forget. 

That fat is of help. 

On the war of bloodshed.

Nothing felt. 

Obsessions dreamt. 

Madness to progress. 

Illusion to become the best.  

Controlled & held. 

Inside the cage, dwell. 

 

4 – “Stay strong. 

Hold on. 

You’re not bound. 

Don’t doubt.”

How can you shout?? 

How can you try out?? 

Positive to profound.

When you left me halfway to drought.

Rejecting, left to the foul. 

I am being rotting inside the ground. 

No traces found. 

But I am silently loud. 

So you could figure me out.

Where am I being drowned.

Left alone to a hound. 

Which will soon terminate me for contrvening it’s vow.

 

1 – Isolated destiny. 

Victim to a variety. 

Maximised to tragedy.

Defiled by profanity. 

Peripheries of insanity. 

Disguised in duality. 

Cutting to negativity.

Relapsing to recovery. 

Held back from clarity. 

Rejected by tall trees. 

Which are filled with vanity. 

Casted by their shadows angrily. 

Ultimately. 

Sheltered by a lady. 

A dark unkown entity. 

Who seems to follow & drain me. 

Loner By Anxiety.