Umm...

Don't worry, I won't commit suicide. I had to think of  a name, so I used my own.

In Small Quantities

The black box.

Forbidden.

All my life.

Forbidden.

The flashing lights.

Forbidden.

Any light.

Forbidden.

Orange, Red, Green and Blue.

Colours all new to me.

The bright ones.

Forbidden.

The polite ones.

Forbidden.

Black, Grey, and Graphite too.

The plain ones.

Forbidden.

The sane ones.

Forbidden.

The lines on my hand.

I won't have time to understand.

The frown on my face.

I won't have time to reprimand.

Orange,

Red,

Green 

and

Blue.

Black,

Grey,

and

Graphite

too.

7 is enough.

I like 7.

Its more than 5.

But less than 10.

Just right.

One by one,

In my mouth they go.

Orange for gloom.

Red for pain.

Blue for doom.

Green for insane.

Black for fast.

Grey for lies.

Graphite for last.

And Mehdi dies.

The Art Of Finger Dexterity

There are many things one can do with fingers.

Stop thinking like that, dirty whore.

I mean bad things.

Again, get those thoughts outta your head.

For example.

I could strangle you.

I could wrap my hands around your throat, bonding myself

To you at last, and not let you go till I see you die. And then I

Slew you across the room.

But that's too easy.

I could pick up the disbanded plastic bag.

And kill you in another way.

Hold it over your head.

Till theres no oxygen left.

And when you pass out

My real fun begins.

I wait till you wake up.

And then drag a knife against your hand.

Cutting small lines.

Roads.

Rivers.

I then move up to your shoulders.

And mark my initials.

I was here.

I drag the knife  to your ears, and 

Take pleasure in piercing them in many places.

You scream.

And I take pleasure in that too.

I then proceed to move the knide towards your face.

Over and over, I write my name on those cheeks.

Soon, you wear a sickly red mask.

Though your eyes are still bright.

Your mouth, still active.

I cut a small ridge across your upper lip.

The lipliner you always wanted.

I got it for you.

Happy?

I move the knife down towards your heart.

And I thrust.

My pleasure.

Forever.

Your heart broken.

Forever.

Story-Time

There's a little gap,

which I like to call a fault.

Small, I assure you.

But large enough to pass through.

Within the gap there's a little crack,

Which I like to call a weakness.

Small, I assure you.

But exploit it, and it will grow.

Soon it becomes a little damaged.

Something I like to call I bruise.

Small, I assure you.

But it shall swell.

There is a little puncture.

Which I like to call a broken heart.

The hole is small, I assure you.

But it shall grow.

There is a little gap.

Which I like to call the unknown.

Small, I assure you.

But it shan't remain unknown for long.

There is a little nothingness.

Which I like to call pain.

And I assure you.

It feels empty with sorrow.

Regret

I'm sorry.

I

really am.

I didn't mean anything.

Honest.

You know that, right?

You mean a lot to me.

Too much.

I just want you to come back.

Look, the room's a mess.

Come back

And we'll pick up the pieces

Together.

Come back

And we'll start again,

Together.

Wouldn't that be nice.

A clean slate.

A fresh start.

But how can you return

From a place which you are at.

The floor sickly red.

Your corpse on our bed.

Prayers

Prayer of the Son

30 days.

Great.

What the fuck am I meant to do?

Travel the world?

Go to bloody disneyland?

My parents aren't made of money.

It's not like it's made out to be.

20 days.

Great.

What the fuck am I meant to do?

Losy my virginity?

It't not like anyone would want me anyway.

Let's face it, I'm not exactly a greek god.

It's not like it's made out to be.

10 days.

Great.

What the fuck am I meant to do?

Go to school?

Is there any

point in getting out of bed?

Should I phone my friends?

And what, make them even more annoyed with me.

It's not their fault.

It's not like it's made out to be.

0 days.

Great.

What the fuck am I meant to do?

I can't be finished.

Not yet.

I haven't had my first kiss

First touch

First love

I regret hoping GCSEs would never come

I regret telling my mum I hate her

I regret not travelling the world

I regret not going to school

I wish I had just one more day

To say the things I had to say

I could be a star

A celebrity

Anyone

If I had the time

I wish I just had one more hour

One minute

One second

Any time would be nice.

But I suppose death will have to suffice.

----------------------------------------

Prayer of the Mother

Our father,

Who art in heaven,

Hallow be thy name,

Thy kingdom come.

But please, not just now.

I just don't see how.

I asked you.

I begged you.

To get him through.

Have I been unworthy,

Have I been unjust?

For my own life has been played with

My feelings, and 

My trust.

Could you not give him one more chance?

Give mercy a glance?

Thy will be done.

On Earth as it is in heaven.

Then why did you take him

From me?

Why did you leave me

Alone?

Give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us our trespasses,

As we forgive those who trespass against us.

You expect me to forget this?

You expect him to forgive me?

I should've let him go to parties.

I should've let him have a girlfriend.

I should've worked harder,

To get him

That bike

That book

The love he needed

Because it's too late for him to have it now.

And lead them not into temptaion,

But deliver them from evil.

Please, Lord,

Do not lead me into temptaion.

And deliver my son from Evil.

For thine is the 

Kingdom

the

Power

and the

Glory.

Amen.

Dates of a different kind

I give you roses every week.

Don't worry, I'm still discrete. It's not

Like I hold big ceremonies or anything.

It's not like I needed to then.

I still see you ever saturday.

Don't worry, I'm still discrete. It's not

Like I proclaim my love left right and centre.

It's not like I needed to then.

I still talk to you 4-ish, after school

Don't worry, I'm still discrete. It's not 

Like I shout or somthing.

It's not like I needed to then.

I give roses

Yet you can't recieve them.

I meet you

Though you can't recognize me.

I talk to you

But you can't hear me.

And as I rest my hands on the gravestone 

I say the words

I thought I didn't need to say.

I Love You.

Happily Ever After

No fairy godmother shall come to my aid.

No knight in shining armour.

No chariots of hope.

Nothing.

I am not ensnared by a beast.

Nor by a dark ruler.

Though it makes no difference.

As I am still trapped.

I bite into the poison apple.

And there is no kiss of life.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Goodbye, my dear

Now, you may leave

I don't need you anymore

I don't need your silent smile

your silent laugh

your silent words

I don't need your shining smile

your shining hope

your shining faith

I don't need your white flag

your white sheets

the white sheets

the protection not needed

not anymore

the comfort not felt

not anymore

the privacy not enjoyed

not anymore

I did not mean to

do what I did

Or to say what I said

I am sorry

And yet you cant hear me.

I look for something.

Your mouth

Silent.

Your smile

Shining.

Your face 

White.

I do not need you.

Your silence.

Your shining hope.

Lies.

I do need you.

Parting is never sweet

When you know theres no tomorrow

Knowing we can never meet

Can only ever bring more sorrow.

Misery in Moderation

I see you distantly in the looking glass.

You are ugly, personified.

You make me sick.

A hand arises to trace the contours of your angular face.

To trace the dark shadows of evil which lay under your eyes.

To trace the lips set in sneer.

You speak.

Your voice

Liquid flame

Burning ice

Cutting through the looking glass

Cutting through me

And to the other side of my misery.

You move.

A movement so filled with distaste it hurts

To look at you

To see you smile

That vile expression 

On your face

Be ashamed of your existence.

You poor, deformed thing.

I pity you.

It surprises me you have not been 

Destroyed.

Though any action of destruction 

Taken against you cannot be worse than the

Ruins of your face.


I sigh.

And stop looking at myself.

Confusion

What was that?

I hear you say

As you open the door

And walk away

Who was that?

I hear me think

Drops of water

Make me sink

Why was that?

I hear them enquire

Whilst all you say

is

Liar

Liar

Liar

What is this

Why is this

Can we not remain,

Can we not refrain,

From bloodshed,

From pain?

The nightingale kills herself for love.

And you do the same.