The Lost Mind

The Lost Mind

 

I did not welcome you into my home,

You were not invited into the precious dome

That contains the most critical component

Of who I am; don’t think for a moment

That you will rule my mind.

You began your assault from the side

And crept in, destroying the happiness

I possessed, you stole the brightness

That I so dearly treasured in my memories,,

The things that were accessories

For who I was as a person.

Your mission was to worsen

My self-identity and self-worth, my personality.

You destroyed it all and left me with the mentality

And physicality of the dead beneath my feet.

Bipolar, if you were a person, I would beat

You into a literal lump of pulp

And consume your painful existence with a gulp

So no one has to suffer anymore

And so you can be nevermore.

 

 

 

 

 

The Sixth Trumpet

The Sixth Trumpet

 

The fair creature stood on the rock,

Gazing down upon the chaotic land,

Waiting to start the end.

 

Its fair hair blows in the air,

Soaking in the pain and terror,

Waiting to unleash utter hell.

 

It raises its bow and draws,

The blood tipped arrow prepared

To draw the blood of the innocent and corrupt.

 

The string is taunt and screaming

To be released and to bring death

And let rivers run the streets.

 

The fair creature releases the arrow

And it sails to its prey,

Blowing the sixth trumpet of apocalypse.

Human Angel

If we could stop and look around,

What would you see in front of you?

You would see people,

Different than you,

But human nonetheless.

Some are afraid of home,

Coming to freedom with nothing

Other than what they wear,

Yet people fear the worst

From those most desperate,

For aid, clothes, food,

Things we take for granted.

They are human,

Like you and I.

Help the helpless,

Aid a human like you,

Fear not their helplessness,

Provide a helping hand,

Be an angel to a human in need.

Dreams of the Beautiful Suicidal Souls pt. 3

Another story to continue the thread that I have started.This story does not depict myself or any person I know, nor is it meant to depict any person, living or deceased. Hope everyone enjoy this work.

 

June 10, 20XX

 

Today is the day I die. I shouldn’t be thinking like this, but I am. I have planned on how to kill myself for weeks already. I don’t want to live in this world anymore.

Just for being different I was hurt. If I dated a girl, I was called a dyke. If I dated a guy, I was labeled a whore who couldn’t keep her legs closed.

All I did was end one relationship and began another. I stopped loving her and began to fall for him. I didn’t cheat on her nor did I do that to him. But kids will be kids and label and judge. All because I identify as bisexual.

They threw fake money at me, telling me that I should be used to this. Saying that a whore like me should take it as a compliment that people want me even though I’m “diseased.” I will say this with confidence that this “whore” is actually a virgin.

Ridiculed and laughed at, rejected by the people around me and those that called me their friends, I feel empty.

All for simply being different. I had thought that my school was about inclusivity and diversity.

I want those who tormented me to know that my blood will be on their hands. I want them to forever remember my name, to always remember the pain they inflicted upon me. I want them to always remember that the girl they killed was simply another human. I want them to realize that I had dreams too. I wanted to help find a cure, or at least a better way to treat, for cancer. I wanted to help my little brother heal after having gone into remission.

I had dreams, just like those that will keep on living. Just know that you caused me this pain. It grew so much that I couldn’t bare it anymore.

I want anyone who reads this to know that words do hurt. It can and will destroy a person’s mind and thoughts and hopes and dreams. It did so for me…

I want anyone who reads this to know that words can hurt. I want you to realize the words you are saying. You need to understand the pain people will go through. You need to see that people do take things to heart. You need to realize that words can be just as deadly as knives.

I’m off to drink now. Bye. I love you, my dear family.

 

Forever Eternal,

Mya Huxley

Dreams of the Beautiful Suicidal Souls pt. 2

Another piece I thought about for this little story line and thread. This is not me or anyone I know. This is not based on anyone but rather inspired by what has occurred in current issues. Hope everyone who reads this enjoys and let me know if anyone would like to see more material like this.

 

July 25, 20XX

 

To all of that read this,

 

Depending on who reads this letter depends on the message I have for you.

If it is the police who first read this letter, I beg for you to spare the sight of my body from my family. I do not want them to see what will become of me…

If it is my family, then I am truly sorry. I couldn’t stand the torture anymore. I was beat in school and mentally attacked. To suffer daily and to have the onslaught continue even after school has ended, it became too much. At graduation, you saw that people would not talk to me, they avoided taking photos with me, pushed me away. All for simply being gay…

I am a gay man. I’ve been called a faggot. I’ve been called queer. I’ve been called a bitch. I’ve been pushed down on a guy by tormentors and smacked and called so many names. I would get disgusting drawings in my locker. I’ve been the recipient of hotdogs being thrown at my face, told that I should like that. I’ve been tied up on a fence and left to bleed.

All of this for simply being different.

I was outed after I told one of my friends. She told another person and that caused a domino effect and eventually many people from school found out and then you, my family found out. I’m so happy and proud of you guys for having accepted me. But it was not enough help in the long run.

If you are one of my tormentors, I sincerely hope that you are not seeing this message. But if you do I hope you let this phrase sink in: “Do onto others as you would have them do onto you.” I hope that you are willing to be hurt and tortured as how you did to me. I hope your “harmless games” were worth it. I wish that you no longer laugh, no longer find the joy of the world. You stole my joy, my hope, and I hope you lose that too.

Today is my birthday. I turned 18 today. We already did my little party. We ate at this nice steak house. I had hoped to travel the world, go to college. Find a husband.

Today I turned 18. Today I die. Today, I was told to “fuck off” and to go “suck a big one” on my birthday.

Today I turned 18. Today I lost all hope.

I love you Mom and Dad and little ones.

 

Love Always,

JJ Smith