Processing the idea of such a Peaceful existence The calm before the storm Trepidation fills me As I inhale Slowly walking down a path There never was no turning back A false promise promised at birth The lie I have always lived Being a better person Is more than just believing Sacrifice everything only to end up With nothing in the end What was ever the point? Why would you ever try to be anything? Feel as though I’ve missed the point of everything
Ashes in a tray…
The flickering light mocks me The darkness seems so much more Appealing than the light This depression is sown into my bones The sadness grows with every breath Taking this was never the problem Only a symptom of being me With no reason I push on Ungrateful to be so grateful Judging by the judgement The sympathy of the times
I’m left feeling so incomplete…
The late nights got me thinking Maybe there’s more to this stupid thing A feeling wrapped in a trap Broken and forever forsaken The life I’ve created got me thinking Maybe there is more out there A failing thought in a concussion Fractured and forever suffering The isolation has gotten me thinking Maybe there’s more to this stupid thing A sinking feeling trapped within Simplistic and forever repeating
There are no innocent when we are all deemed guilty…
Breaking through the ice So thick A sledge hammer of sound Sledge hammer of pain No one ever asked me I’ve just always wanted the escape Freedom never meant much Until it was taken away Chipping away at the restraints A freak without a sound Freaking out without the pain Told me everything would be okay Why have you always felt the need To lie to me
Tried to hit every base with this one… nothing ever really shuts off in here… it is annoying but what else am I going to do?… bored today… did some yard work… still bored… did some writing… obviously… still bored… play some video games?… probably be bored… could read but I don’t feel like doing anything… riding out the day until it is over… if I never make it… it won’t be because of anyone around me… not motivated enough today… that’s more depressing than the depression… rambling on else where…
I’m fat, I’m ugly Cutting out all the things That make me, me What am I without the flaws? I’m stupid, I’m useless Tearing out all the things That I believe to be Who have I been all this time? I’m weak, I’m disgusting Ripping out all the things That I allow myself to be How could I ever justify going on? Just do Cutting, tearing, ripping, destroying The very things that make me, me Why would I ever cave? When the demons live inside This very skin Where do they live, where do I begin?
It was a nervous breakdown not a redemption
Did you ever really love me A thought I hold deep down inside A lie you’ve told time after time The answer has always been lost in your eyes Tip of your tongue, between your thighs Guilty thought I’d never let die I will ask one more time I need the truth So lie to me Did you ever really love me
“It’s not as though I’m going to cut open your asshole and stick my head in. But I might.”
You’re so quiet The words must be behind it all Tearing out my eyes Don’t care if I live Only want to die Kisses from beneath the ground Hugs, I’ve always been Everything you’ve despised The only thing that makes any sense Is that I am the end of everything Smiling and I will destroy My life for your ill will Eating your heart Because you already took mine
All over the place today… turning in my own grave… thoughts are endless… stay in the house because if we are all afraid… then it will never go away…
This is the end of everything My ever need Bury me A grave with nothing to say Say my name Devil inside me Destruction at every turn Living in a world that couldn’t sit still I’ll bring you everything you need Screaming in place
Can’t see the words through the blur
Hangman’s noose Judge, jury Hate myself more Than anyone ever could Punishment for sins unknown Woke up into a world of shit Born into this skin Wish I could escape somehow Every attempt leaves me feeling Wishing I was dead Screaming in my skull Dragging this body around
Spilling shit all over myself
In the shadows becoming something else The trick isn’t as exciting when You know the process Down right depressing If you only knew You’d ask me to stop, give up Save yourself you’d say Who would I be anyway Giving away everything Save you for myself
I need to stop listening to sad songs…. bringing out the best in me?… unlikely…
It happened again today. One of the patients tried to escape. “Couldn’t take the devil for one more day,” she screamed over and over as she tried to squeeze herself between the broken shards of glass and the bars of her window. The hospital board will want to know what I’d call it. A suicide attempt? A condition of her psychosis? What can we file this under? “How doctor do you explain what is going on?” I can hear them asking me. Even as the staff rush to help her with her many wounds. Even as she is bleeding out all over the floor. How do I explain this?
How does one explain to someone who is not here to witness this behavior day in and day out? How does one justify this as a normal everyday occurrence? One doesn’t. That one who is me must lie. Make an excuse to how such a patient ended up with gashes all over her body. Because the truth in this matter is irrelevant. A broken brain, the devil made me, and feelings of sadness are not answers to the questions they will ask. The bleeding slows and the staff lift her up onto the gurney. She will have to spend sometime in the medical warded. Heavily sedated of course. Which is the only reason I have to even bother with any of these incestuous questions. Money is all the board cares about. Had she hit her head? Well who would have noticed the difference? I know I wouldn’t have.
Why is it always the low risk patients that cause the most problems? More restraints maybe? I have my own questions that need to be answered. When she heals up I will have to find time to ask them. Until then it is on to the next one and the next one after that. I’m locked in here with them. I know it seems as if I can leave the confines of this place but illusions often seem real. Every day is a repeat, a trap in which I can not break free. Each case, each patient, each dark secret of the mind only makes the nightmare that much worse.
A man of science is no more trapped than a man of faith.One in the same forced to go on two separate paths that no matter which is taken come to the same conclusion, death. They don’t teach you that in school. No life teaches you that over time. Holds your head down under the water and demands answers to questions you could not possibly understand. I envy the others here. The staff and the patients as they do not seem to notice the path they have chosen, or perhaps they have without ever really knowing? Too many questions. The mind is a locked box in which I am expected to pry open, expected to break, fix, and replace. Maybe in the end all I have broken is myself?
Wish I could think of something else Nothing comes to mind so I dwell What could have been, what it is The past and the present don’t seem To match the future Stuck in time, stuck thinking about the times You meant something more Something to me that I can’t ignore The ignorance of our situation Do I love you or am I just waiting Wish I could think of something else Not the words spoken but the ones hidden Hurt too many times to make this work
A pile of papers with nothing to say…
Going to be one of those days Dragging myself through hell A smile and a thought Doing it to myself Not nearly as bad as I once thought Tearing through a lifetime Night after night A cold and apathetic thought What do you mean to me When you mean everything Killing all the parts of me that I thought mattered How wrong I ever was This is the only way to live a life With a broken dream With a big ass smile
“Are you going to act calm, cool, and collected or are you going to run around like someone shit in your mouth?”
An ends to a means A history rooted in treachery Knowing why never seemed important Until you asked Accepting everything at face value Crumbling with time The chains that bind Who you are and all the reasons why Who we can be and the reasons why Questioning everything inside
Was just thinking this picture is rather large… need a smaller version… but then you don’t get the full effect of the image… boring ass day today… but I had fun none the less… I like boring days… to be honest… I look forward to them… nothing going to shit… no one caring what I did or what I am doing… maybe it is a getting older thing?… maybe it is a flashback of my youth?…
Did three hours of yard work… nothing special… maintaining the space I guess… blasting metal at 9 a.m. and waving at the neighbors… they are pretty cool… we all keep to ourselves… I will always like that… I lived in a neighborhood once… where everyone had to be three feet up your ass… what are you doing?… how is the family?… what do you think of this traffic?… checking my mail… you saw them walk into the house so alive… and why the fuck are you hanging out in your front yard like a creep?… I like to keep to myself… haha…
Well I should probably go finish burying the rest of the bodies… got to put the work in if you want to succeed in life… Hope all is well…
need you go speak with Stephanie. She still hasn’t got out of bed. It has been
almost three days,” the nurse tells him. I don’t look up from my desk. My pen digs deeper into the chart I’m working
on. The nurse holds on to my office door to afraid to fully enter,
“Doctor, did you hear me?” Pushing the pen the tip deeper into the chart.
“Is there anything else?” I asks looking up to her with a fake smile.
“No, I guess not,” she answers before closing the door and
disappearing. The pen tip snaps spilling ink all over the chart, “What
could the little psychopath possibly be up to now?”
I enter Stephanie’s room and the first thing to hit me is
the smell. The smell of three day old shit and piss. Jesus Christ does no one
do their job around here? Doesn’t matter I think as I rub my forehead in
frustration. Lighting up a cigarette to try and mask the smell I fight the need
to vomit. “Stephanie may I have a moment of your time?” I ask in the fakest
version of myself I can. She only sits there on her bed with her knees to her
chest staring at me. “The silent treatment for me as well. That’s fine I suppose.
It won’t help you I’m afraid,” I take another step into the room. Her eyes burn
with a furry. All of their eyes have this look. A look none of my medical books
have ever been able to explain. The two orderlies I brought with me wait a few
steps behind me. I can hear them as they try not to breathe. Unfortunately that
isn’t much of an option at the moment.
“Heard it has been over three days since you’ve attempted to get up. Moving around is good for your mind you know? A little outdoor time. Maybe some sun would make you feel better?” Still nothing only her burning eyes. “I also heard you are refusing to eat for the nurses but I see you have some of the plates there in your bed. That is good. That is positive. What isn’t so positive and judging by the smell in this room I have to believe is true? Is that you have been pissing and defecating the bed again. We’ve talked about this Stephanie. We can’t have you doing this. It isn’t healthy or sanitary. To be quite frank it isn’t really fair to the staff. That is beyond the point though. Stephanie you need to get out of bed.” My anger begins to rise as I stomp out my cigarette and light another one. Her eyes burning. Their eyes so dark. Sometimes I just want to grab them by the throat and watch the flames slowly smolder out. No, push it down. You are here to help them.
“Stephanie you need to get out of bed now,” I inform her unsympathetically.
“Bring her back,” she screams at me. My ears ringing I fight the urge to scream
along with her, “She doesn’t exist. We have been over this.” The fire rages in
her eyes, “Bring her back.” Bits of dried shit fall off her arms as she
screams. “She doesn’t exist therefore we can’t bring her back. We have been
over this. You need to understand this Stephanie,” I shout threw her screams. “She
does exist and you took her away from me,” her whole body shakes with every
word. The orderlies rush to my side but I signal them to stay back. I can feel
my own frustration and my own anger fighting to release itself. “Enough of this
screaming Stephanie,” I say with a stern voice. “There is no reason to scream
at me. I promise you we never took her away because she is not real.” She
shakes her head no causing more dried shit to fall off her body. “You are a
liar. You took her just to make me unhappy. Just to make me suffer. You are
just like them. Just like everyone else,” she throws herself into her pillows.
I take a step closer, “Now why on earth would I do something like that? I’m here to help you get better. You are here to get better. So let me help you. Let us help you get there. Let’s get out of the bed and get you cleaned up.” Her face still buried in her shit covered pillow, “Not until you bring her back to me.” Standing just out of arms reach of her the smell is becoming too much to bare. “Stephanie this is no way to live. We need to get you out of this bed,” I say as calmly as one can in this situation. Staring at her I wonder where everything went wrong. How could such a beautiful girl turn into such a mess? If this were another life or if things had worked out differently I would have been staring at her up on a screen. Not in a room with her shit smeared on the walls. This world can be too much to take at times. Before I even have time to react. Stephanie springs from her bed and tackles me to the floor. With her hands around my throat she begins to scream, “Bring her back.”
Despite her small frame she has a strength I don’t understand. The two orderlies fight to get her off of me, but with every ounce of effort her hands grip tighter to my throat. Her screaming fills the tiny room with so much noise. My ears ring as I try to fight her. I try to find a place on her body that isn’t covered in shit as my hands slide off her skin. I just want to help them. I can’t understand what is happening. That’s all I ever wanted to do. But right now I just want to kill her. Gouge out her little eyes and watch her scream in pain. So disoriented as all my sense become over stimulated confusion sets in. A nurse runs into the room and injects her with a syringe of diazepam. She fights the effects as I fight for air. Fight the urge to not kill the life from her. I feel the strength leave her hands and her weight off my chest. Inhaling deeply the smell of the room takes over as I vomit on to the floor. Staring into my own pool of vomit. I am left wondering why is it that any of this needs to exist.
“I’m not feeling particularly violent today. I mean no one
was asking me to be. I just don’t feel it. Some days I can really feel it,” she
says with a smile. The smile washes away from her face, “But not today. No,
today I feel rather joyous and a bit vain. Callus is the word? No that is
something that happens to the skin. What is the word that I am trying to say?”
A silence fills the room as she stares at the wall. “Hey, do you want to know
something else about skin? Do you know what happens when direct heat is
applied? You know like fire.” Again she stares as she waits for an answer as
she waves butane torch in her hand wildly. “Stumped you huh? Well silly it
doesn’t just turn black. You know like with raw meat. No the skin bubbles
first. Bubbles and bubbles until the water trapped inside causes the epidermis
to explode.” She begins to laugh hysterically at the screams of her victim.
“Do you still think?” She screams into the victims face. “Do
you think?” She asked calmly as she grabs the victim’s hair. She takes the long
flowing hair and wraps it around her knuckles. She pulls the hair tight and
raises it above the girl’s head. “Do you think that the same thing will happen
with hair? Should we test my theory? Because I think. Well honestly I have no
idea what will happen. Do you?” She asks curiously. “Better yet,” she pulls the
handful of hair to the point of breaking, “Do you think that if I make you as
ugly as me. You’d want me then?” She presses her scared face into the other
girl’s face. Butane torch burning in the other hand. A look comes across her
face as she stares into the other girl’s eyes, “Yeah bitch I didn’t get these
scars sucking dick. I earned them. So let’s ask ourselves this simple question.
Do you think you could ever walk in my shoes for a day? One day. That’s all.”
She looks down at the victims shoes, “Because let’s face it those pumps look
amazing. What size are they anyway?”
She turns the fuel knob on the butane torch to off and
places it down on the carpeted floor. The girl only whimpers as tears flow down
her face. “Tell me are they Capezio? Is that still even a thing? Fashion really
isn’t my thing. I’m more or less into other things. Don’t get me wrong though.
I like to learn.” She walks over to the dresser and picks something up. Slowly
pacing back over to the girl holding something behind her back, “Do you mind if
I take a look at them? You know up close? I promise I won’t hurt them.” In one
rapid motion she lunges at the girl’s right foot with a hatchet in hand.
Swinging the hatchet at the girls shin. Slightly above the ankle. Over and over
again with everything she has the hatchet connects to flesh and bone. The room
fills with the sound of screaming, laughter, and hacked away flesh. Her face
sprayed with blood at every hack. Wave after wave of blood. The victim flails
her leg in pain the best she can against the restraints. The victim’s whole
body begins to convulse until it doesn’t.
She sits crossed legged on the floor staring at what is left of the girl’s foot. “Really don’t think these are so great after all. You know with all the blood on them and everything. Hey, are you still with me princess?” She asks her. She taps the girls left leg with the side of the hatchet. “I’m talking to you.” She slams the hatchet blade side down into the victim’s right thigh. The hatchet stands in place as she slaps the girl over and over, ‘I said that I’m talking to you.” She screams words of nothing with everything she has into the girl’s face. “That bitch is dead.” Sad she tosses the hacked off foot behind her. It lands on the bed with a soft thud as it bounces into the pillows. “We were just starting to have fun.” She says with a pouted face. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that. Stupid, stupid,” she hits herself on the side of the head over and over. Rubbing her knuckles against the scars. The smell of smoke slowly fills the room. She looks around confused until she sees the knocked over torch. Watching the trail of fire as it spreads to the bed. “Well fuck, Father isn’t going to like this.” Random limbs hang from the ceiling as the fire takes everything.