wrist violin.

wrist violin.

A Poem by October

I often dream of awful things. I torment you, just to watch you beg and bleed.

I've got so much rage. I can't control. The night reflects my damanged soul.

 

All there ever was and ever will be is lies upon lies. Selfish creatures full of greed. I want to watch them burn alive before my eyes.

 

All this rage, I can't contain. I've spent too much time living in isolation and shame. But I can't seem to shake the thought of you. I loved you though you never knew.

 

Under bruised skies you sacrifice anything you think will suffice,

your payment for eternal life but all you gain is more strife.

 

Behind locked doors you play your wrist violin. Slicing veins for what could have been. I watch you struggle with your self-hate. You blame yourself for everyone else's mistakes.

 

Don't you realize we have no purpose? No great plan, no devine future. Ignorance has never been more bliss. It's devastating that there is no more to life than this.

 

Just enough tears to drown us all. Breath it in until deeper and deeper we fall.

 

You like the isolation. It helps to escape the situation. But in your head you suffer for everyone else's pain. And that's something you can't contain.

 I watch you sing a long as you play your wrisit violin. Hating yourself for my sins.

 

I can't contain my rage. Close my eyes, turn the page.

© 2010 October


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Reviews

I love the title. It really caught my attention.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Wow. this is incredibly powerful. It makes me ache to read it.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Mail is acting spastic so I'm writing my response to your message here...

Thanks for your er... 'comment'. Can't really call it a review because it serves one purpose - to butter me up.

But hey, I'm not an a*****e.

I'm taking some time to review a couple of your poems - "Wrist Violin", and "Who are you to call me broken". I shall have them returned to you in a probably insufficient, non-punctual amount of time.

A.E

Posted 9 Years Ago


Wow. This is SUCH a wonderful write...it hits close to home for me, and the term 'wrist violin' is total literary genius, by the way.


Posted 9 Years Ago



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5 Reviews
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Added on January 26, 2010
Last Updated on January 26, 2010

Author

October
October

Decatur, AL



About
Quiet. Disturbed. Insane. more..

Writing
You woke up. You woke up.

A Poem by October