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Groundhog Day.

My unbeating heart makes not one    
Single gesture    
The sores on my arms are infected and festered    
Blood runs cold, stopping in its tracks    
What was once full of life, now lacks    
Lay still, silent    
Though not quiet, no not very quiet    
Searing red, strife and violence.    
I wake up, in a hospital bed
Only to find that it’s happened again.  
What could possibly have gone wrong?    
As I wake from the dead,    
Entire life infront of me  
Hanging by a thread    
There’s No light at the end of my tunnel    
The mood was dark,my sight muttled  
Visions of images to bold for comprehension      
Living my life in the bend of my arm
Standing over myself like a star in the sky     
wondering what you are
But to high to have understanding  
to high to rationalize       
it’s defying the forces Which so heavily do press me.    
Her excruciatingly painful inner version of what’s best for me,
it’s Controlled contempt,    
An act of such audacity, showing my true compasity to be everything that I’m not.    
Lashes on my back that bring back my senses      
It’s a waste and a tragedy.    
Crumbling from the gravity that im a fucking casualty of such fucking goddamn blasphemy    
That was drawn by my own hand.    
The admission rocked her whole body, fumbling and sobbing, every few seconds checking my pulse, on impulse    
 Is this death, or am I nodding?    
This existence is bleak, under the constant scrutiny of a needle    
Poking me and prodding me    
Knocking me out sorts.    
Bombarding me without one small bit of remorse    
Trying so hard to drown out the sounds    
Shoving them deeper    
deeper down this rabbit hole    
That contains the stark contrast
Infinitely dark but blindingly beautiful  
there’s no escaping such hopelessness,  
it’s constant and residual    
Waking up every day to endure the inevitable    
Whispers cascading higher almost fucking screaming at me    
to stop before it’s too late    
But it is and I’m burning    
Burning in the fire    
   
Looks like tomorrow never got here    
And the present just sits back silent.  
though not quiet, no not very quiet.    
The yearn stirs    
It Intoxicates me into a trance.    
Fates pale fingers so seductively trace    
The delicate lace that’s covering    
A great expanse full of all my sadness and hate    
The chance of an out from this fate    
to escape this state of which I’m eternally trapped. They call it a saving grace    
But that’s coming from someone who’s never had    
Poison fill up their entire fucking face.    
Man im tired fuckin wait    
But I never get a break    
Glass shatttered all around me    
And then Realizing for the first time    
That I’m even fucking alive.    
Expectantly, they wait    
Having nothing left but this    
I allow them a moment    
To recollect themselves    
Before the convulsions    
Take this spared life straight to hell.    
while I lay here with sweat beading on my face,    
I find myself Longing for more of the shit that fucking made me this way.
Written by Nowhere_ (HaleyJade)
Published | Edited 2nd Feb 2025
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