Cold Inside

Cold inside,
Always so cold inside,
I try to see past, but only shown wrong,
The colours always fade,
When I only try.

It digs,
Pierces, tears and hurts.

Now unflinching, I just watch.
I die and hope,
Let go and fade.
Hurt and leave another day.
Wanting silence,
To cry, leave and die.

Just to sit here,
Let to fate.
Left to pain by realisation,
Shown true colours.

I saddened by humanity’s face.
Its uncaring, manner.
One looking down at pain,
The outstretched hand,
A laugh?

Such to be expected now,
After hoping,
Hoping for kindness,
But wrong,
Knew I was wrong,
Guessed I was wrong.
Shown I was wrong.

As the skin won’t tear,
My mind forces,
Wills it.

The mind’s silent wait,
All unfeeling,
Don’t feel like eating as the body asks,
Not even existing,
Waiting for unconsciousness to claim me,
Sleep a redeemer,
It can claim, but never long enough.
Before I wake,
Thrown into pain again.

I can’t even remember,
To grasp a sliver of happiness,
I remember, people,
I remember pain,
I remember being used.
And I die everytime.

Memories cutting,
Slashing and hurting.

It’s so cold,
Always reminded.
Even as I try to believe,
People can show kindness,
Like I try.
Then I see the truth.
The truth that it’s so cold inside.

Writing, having an earlier night than usual, healthier? No, just fucking can’t be bothered to be conscious any longer. Hurtful, how hurtful people can be. Late night chats to make sure someone’s okay, to cheer them up or at least show someone understands, joke around and all sorts of shit. As always, as to be expected, as always experiences. I’m just left here, feeling used again. Wondering why I bother, but unfortunately I don’t do it for something in return hence I will do it again, get used again, get hurt again. Constant torture. Until my mind goes numb but feeling.

Against The River Flow

Against the river flow,
Sad to see,
Sad to hear,
Sad to feel.

Sad to know,
Solitude in my drift,
Against the river flow,
Going for kindness,
To be there for others,
And I do it alone.

Walk the path,
A lonely drift,
A twig, alone,
Going against the river flow.

Seeing all flow past,
Walking down this path.

Current always pushing against.
Against me in this river’s flow.
Knowing I’m always alone.

Writing this about kindness, consideration. As I look back, seeing the path walked, always being used, an easy for others to get comfort. Always trying to help. I get used and left.

A path I walk, and know I walk it alone. Only to be used when needed, and left alone. Hating yet I continue to walk as life tears, and walk it alone.

Hanging Back

Hanging back, A little time,

Smaller chatting,
A kind smile,
Nice time.

A small chat,
So much yet so nothing.
An insight, jokes and plans.

Those moments,
That drift by so fast,
Yet feel, like I can stand there for a lifetime.

Hanging back, to help,
To chat, to ask.
To listen.

Time well spent,
Time so pure,
Not used, not wasted.

So mundane, yet valued.

Hanging back.
Letting it be,
Hanging back and letting life lead,
Letting it all work.

Hanging back.

Writing this and the last poems, thinking. Thinking about being, I’m okay, after a sleep, I’m feeling better, hopeful, thinking, and thinking back on some times recently, easily gone but at the same time not.

Moments of Lies

Moments of lies,
A person who all they said,
A lie.
Myself always convincing myself,
A lie.

Many friends,
Trying to shine a truth,
Through the darkness,
Others, strangers I barely knew.
Should have taken heed.
To save the manipulation.
The reaching into my mind,
Taking all of use.
Before smashing and discarding the rest.
Broken, useless, on the cold hard floor.

At the time,
Waiting to end,
Waiting to break,
Accepting my

But not anymore,
That is not mine,
That is the fate they planned for me.
I will get up and run.
Move on and past,
In defiant.

The worst of those,
In this world.
Need to be shown.
That the worst will not succeed.
There is a light for all those who show it.
With darkness…
Awaiting those who don’t.

A shroud of lies,
A moment,
Made clear.
A truth revealed.
Of evil people,
Terrible lies,
Dastardly plans,
And a truth of life to defeat them.

Mistaken Kindness

Mistaken kindness.
Both my own, and another’s.

A mistake,
One I should have seen,
Should have known.
The past revealed before me,
The mistake made once, twice and now again.

Placing trust in a snake.
A twisted thorn.
One seeking use and hurt,
Mistaking kindness for staking claim.

Mistaken kindness,
Placed in another.
My mistake.
Trusting those who cannot be.
When the past showed the deep chasms.
The war within my mind.
My kindness trying to shine,
My mind warning me away.
Friends questioning the path walked again.

There are some questions,
To be asked of some.
How do you sleep at night?
How do you ever be at peace?
Should you be?

Mistaken kindness,
For wicked intentions.
A false face,
Lies all abound.

A facade of trust when lies are all there is.
A facade of kindness, when usability is all there is.
An act if what there is, when the truth isn’t to be seen.

A mistaken kindness.
Shining on but one point.
A warning,
To place kindness,
Only when it is shown,
Only when deserved.

To avoid mistakes.
Aches, pains and scars.

From mistaken kindness.


Used, as always, used.
My care, my mind, my heart to help.
Brought back,
When some care shown.
Thrown out when spent.

As before,
As always,
Should have seen,
Should have known.

The signs being there,
But I willfully ignored.

I pretended not to see,
To save the pain.
Saved, for another day,
All at once.

I played along willing.
Was complicit.
Only to help.

But again.
I was used.

I Was That

I was that,

I was your play thing,

Your toy,

The thing to throw around,




I was the thing you discarded,

Only to be picked up when holding a potential use.

I was the person always there.

I was held on to when needed.

Oh how I walked into it every time,

Hand outstretched every time,

Always used and discarded.

I am not a toy, I have feelings.

Hard to see that, in a toy.

Always my hand outstretched.

Always either used or left.
Never mind,

I was all that.

And continue to be.

For now.

Waiting for the moment.

When I am not all that.

That Time

That time,

That time you called me,
I was busy, but made time.
Everyone else at the party, looking, wondering.
I made time,
You were alone,
You were stressed and hurting.
I made time, that time.

Many other times.

Now I am next to you and you leave me, ignore me.
Feel like an extra part.
I know I’ve been used. Know I’m the extra part.

But know that one time.
I felt something.
Maybe it was just me, and it wasn’t there.

You’ve left me.
When I was always there for you.

That other time,
You upset,
I on the phone,
Just walked home,
You called drunk,
Not wanting to drink alone.
I changed and walked back,
We laughed, we sang, we joked, and played around
I was there.
You weren’t.
Those messages, snapchats and statuses,
About me,
To make another jealous.

I pretended not to notice.
I pretended it was fine,
Still do
Not mentioned it.
Not to hurt you.
Not to be hurt by you.
I cared,
That other time.
You used me.

Bursting to tears now.
In public,
Next to you,
As you still continue to use me.
Still continue to have me as an extra part.

I cared.
I care.
I hurt.
That time.

Letter to my crush

I try to let you go, you drag me back.

You make me jealous with the guy you like, but drag me along whenever you two are together.

You use me to make him jealous when he’s not giving you attention.

You blame me for things, but use me to confide, to make you feel better.

It pains me knowing nothing I do can make you feel better, pains me that you like someone else. I am happy if you are, all the best, but please let me go so I may be happy.
You make me feel the best I’ve ever felt, but also the worst.

I’ve self harmed because of you, am depressed because, hurt because. But I always still care. Always am still there.

I give you the attention you want, but I’m not the person you want. I know that. I still hope. I still care. I still hurt. I would rather go on hurting rather than leave you hurting.
My friends warn me to leave, tell me to go, and have done since I met you, yet I haven’t. Those times I nearly get away you drag me back. And I willingly walk. Like a dead-man to a guillotine. At least the guillotine offers an end. Not like what I have.
This is all still worth it for you, to make you feel better, but I know you won’t. Hope you’ll care for me, but I know you won’t. Know you lie to me, but I ignore this.
It all hurts, yet I still stay. I do not know why. I don’t want to, but I also do. But I know I shouldn’t.
How can someone hold someone close to the flame and watch them writhe in agony, just for their own pleasure. Why? I don’t know. I would continue for you and I don’t even know why.
It pains me to see you hurt. I would happily end my life, to guarantee you a better one.

I hope you would find out how worth it you are. How I care. Always care. Always will be there. Unless I find my escape.

I Fell For The Act

I feel for that act you played.

Being nice,

Being kind,

Joking and smiling and bumping into me.

All an act.

An ferocious act of deception,

To use.

The one word to describe you, MANIPULATIVE.
The one word for your specialism, USING PEOPLE.

You do so here,
You do so there,

People see this.

The only person I know, whose friends all mention your manipulation.

Your lies.

Your Janus two-faced nature.

A playful hug with one face, all kind, happy and warm.

With your frozen talons piercing through seared frozen flesh with the other.

Yet you do this willingly,

Do this happily.

I fell for act you played.

I was told to be wary, was warned from when I first met you.

I fell for it every time.

Defended you every time.

Even as you ripped a part of me;


How many times I did.

How many times.

I fell for that act.