Tag Archives: Suicide

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.

Don’t Know

Humane.
Recognizably failed.

To cease the pain.

Slaughter to fulfill the shame.

Begin the game.

Dehumanized.

Now left with dead insides.

My last ray of hope.

It is now a rope.

Suicidal Notes.

Looping jolts.

Pinching cold.

All over like before.

Intensely more.

This time chose.

Misery rose.

Vulgar cope.

Sober gore.

Deep in hole.

And I clearly don’t know.

No one can love me.

No one deserves a freak.

I am my own worst enemy.

And internalized anger bursts immediately.

Out on the skin efficiently.

Raped brutally.

Bleeding mercilessly.

End this symphony.

End this misery.

Don’t want life anymore, seriously.

And I don’t know how else to deal.
Written by P.S.

The Quiet BorderlineĀ 

Why I’m always so silent. In pic (Kurt Cobain)

 1 – My body shakes.

My head aches. 

I’ve been raped. 

And I’m going to fail. 

Because mind maims. 

Bullied under shame. 

Severe self hate. 

Can’t raise. 

Voice against. 

Madness chased. 

Hidden blades.

  

2 – Fine. 

I’m alright. 

Just a lost fight.  

Blurred sight. 

Now it’s a constant drive. 

Ugly body, pathetic mind. 

Miserable life. 

Opiate eyes. 

Pain behind. 

Tears dry. 

Masked lie. 

But why? 

Anxious to die.

3 – You will be gone soon. 

And I will lock my cocoon. 

Where I will bleed my doom.

So don’t find me and get confused. 

Because suicide is now a loop.

It’s becoming my ultimate truth. 

And I just can’t choose. 

What exactly do I have to prove? 

I’ve failed everything, whatever I’ve been through. 

So don’t look. 

I am a burning book. 

Which will soon. 

Turn to ashes, erasing my proof. 

My existence is mute.

And please don’t look back. 

I’ve already planned my attack. 

I’m sitting with a gun in my hand.

So don’t look back. 

I’m already trapped. 

4 – A woman who tried. 

She took my mask of disguise. 

I painted a picture which she defined. 

Hate which made me defiled.

The misery I tried to hide. 

A disgusting smile. 

Saw my soul through my eyes.

Withering ride.

But I, 

Left her because I, deserve to die. 

The quiet borderline. 

About to pull the trigger…grip on the gun; tight.

The Quiet Borderline.

Who never shined.

Is now terrorised.

Afraid to stay alive.

The Quiet Borderline.

Alone in night.

Jumped down from a height.

The Quiet Borderline.

Written By ‘PATIENT’ Stan.

Meaning – I wrote this to describe quiet borderline personality. Which is quite psychotically more self destructive because a typical BPD sufferer would exhibit acting out, where as a a quiet one will act in. Inducing pain upon themselves. They get unnoticed and it’s sometimes too late for them. 

It’s story about a guy who is struggling from such inner turmoil that he thinks he doesn’t deserve anyone in his life. He gets frightened when people try to get too close to him. He just maintains his distance and avoids contact. He’s sensitive about his scars. But not comfortable in his skin as people keep reminding him to pull his sleeves down. Providing him successfull nostalgia of misery & shame. He feels things intensely and that’s why hate getting attached to someone because he knows it will be a rollercoaster of agonising pain. He’s suicidal and thinks he deserves to die.

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’

S.A.S.H (Swimming After Self Harm)

Floating

1 – Make up, mirrors.

Silent killers.

A norm to fit better.

Why is our perception?

Fails when it assures vague redemption.

But that is just torture.

Weakened to surrender.

Words additionally pressures.

Destructive, vigorous measures.
2 – Cold blade.

Suffering pain.

Brutally maimed.

External hate.

Emotional drain.

Absurdily deranged.

On the face.

Slapped with hate.

Blood remains.

Suffering is just an escape.

Reality that you’ve framed.

But you’re just a waste.

Thoughts race.

Self evaluate.
3 – Isolate.

Pain induces escape.

Accept it that you’re afraid.

To live ahead is just not your way.

Suicidal rage.

Mind phase.

Considered again.

Nothing’s the same.

Erase your name.

Your existence, slowly fades.

So why not burn out in that case.

Tried to face.

Fear trembling in my veins.

Skin itching craves.

It’s the biggest mistake.

Picking up the razor sharp blade.

It’s shine seduced me & left me deranged.

Swimming after every cut made.

Blood cascades.

Seized up brain.

Numb the weight.

Dirty game.

Failed 

Written by P.S. 

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.