Naked Violet, Chapter Three: Black Dog

Trigger Warning: Suicidal Ideation

 A Fragment Remains
 
 A petal suffocated in a storm,  
 Convulsive squalls swarming me to conform,  
 Dragged though alleyways trying to deform,  
 An innocent, fragile, floundering form.
  
 Solitary islands, drifting perhaps?
 Delicate bridges starting to relapse.
 Red ribbons ripping, butchered legs collapse,
 Cruelly infinite in the silent gaps.
  
 A desolate isle is my lonely hell.
 Drowning in sorrows, trapped in a damned cell.
 Slaughtered on a dark cliff face, where I fell;
 Slitting my wrists, my worthless life I sell. 

---

A Jagged Edge
 
Alone with my blood, alone with my pain,  
I take a razor and wish to be slain.
A second rate citizen invisible to all.
Tears mingle with death, waiting to fall.
Seizures beckon and razors call.
I wish to be dead and end it all. 

---

daylight

dead flowers bloom
atop the grave
yes there is blood
light has gone
inside the heart
given away to crows
hurting and grieving
tearing and ripping

---

A rock never feels any pain
 
Multiple hands tearing at the seams,  
No hope, my sorrowful dreams,  
Icy weeds strip my esteem.
Clinging to this morbid theme.
 
Forever running they say,
Fearing to trust for pain day,  
A facade frightens what may,  
Due to my self-enforced slay.
 
Crying for help, always lost,
A torrential flood that costs,  
How to escape the frost?
What if I am to be tossed? 

---

Bitter Seeds
 
Spasmodic emotions, angry house,  
Trapped in here, must get out. 

---

Inhale

The smell of before,
A decadent candy store.

The bouquet of desolation,
The foundation of cremation.
The ambrosia of despair,
A provocative prayer.

The aroma of sorrow,
Blood sucked from marrow.
The stench of regret,
Strings of a marionette.

Mouldy plaster,
The scent of after.

---

Oblivious
 
Thoughts chained inside, no right to voice,  
Despite inconsequential choice.
 
I am angry and raw,  
I am burning and sore,  
Undone by claws.
 
I silently shut the door,  
I need to come ashore,
But there is a chasm on the dance floor.
 
Anxiety.   
Where is your piety?