Confessions written in blood ~ ~ angel tears in my vial
Rentry dump of poetry. TW's for ╰╮ suicide, self harm, disordered thoughts, abuse, religious themes / trauma, ect update log
01 ノ 03.07.23 ₊˚.⋆

Ive sliced and left bare enough to grow rotten.
People keep telling me to stop smoking but I have all these lighters and nothing to do with my hands. the sun is refusing to go up. I yearn for it to come up, only to do nothing again. I google early symptoms of throat cancer and bacterial meningitis and look in the mirror for far too long. I feel my lymph nodes. Im rotten. I convince myself its not july and im still breathing. I smoke. When I feel the core decaying I sit by the window and let myself remember certain things. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Im decaying. Whatever.
~c
02 ノ 02.07.23 ₊˚.⋆

You have infiltrated my thoughts. All I can think of is you. you. you. you always coming in groups of three like a holy trinity reminding me you need to be worshipped, Its a mockery of the christ. You've intoxicated my bloodstream, made me infected with sin that your touch promises to wash away. but what is sin if its not for you? I kiss my cross as i whisper your name. Nothing sounds more holy than the way you say my name, I'd drop to my knee's. How can my want , need, be so damning? How could a god who created these desires be punishing me for them? a god who created your lips to be so sweet, to speak my name like heaven itself, be punishing me for praising the thing he made be? its not my fault he made me so weak,so human, that I bend and break the very moment you spare me a thought. I lack the belief I wasnt made to say your name like a prayer, that my voice was not handcrafted to say your name over and over again like it was the only thing for me to speak, that the curve of my hands arent made to fit the shape of your waist, that god didnt make me for you, to worship you and only you.
so I will continue to worship the ground you walk on, every second of the day as you let my decaying heart breathe, because I was made to.
~c
03 ノ 04.07.23 ₊˚.⋆

Theres thorns butchering my throat, theres dirt spilling and mixing with my blood. im fine The smoke is suffocating, I see things I thought I forgot about, I smell my own corpse. im fine. How do I write without spilling my remains? Im losing myself im fine. The episodes are getting more frequent, im spiralling more. I miss the past sometimes. im fine.

middle school poetry has always been my speciality. I'll bleed through the weak attempts people believe. Ill settle for the 2000s themed agongy, ill play it off as a joke. im fine. ~s
04 ノ 04.07.23 ₊˚.⋆

I dont trust priests, so let me confess my sins to the internet instead what a fucking joke.

I woke up stained in liliac scented remains today. Its nauseating, the dried blood leaves me looking even more like a sickened corpse. The hellfire calls me back. I woke up with barred teeth. Im like a dog, I tremble and snarl when im nervous, when im doubtful.
I bite too hard, I can taste the tinge of pain on my tongue, the blood only eggs me on more, are you happy now god? The hellfire is calling me back.

do you understand yet? No? Thats expected. god made that be.

if i call you a priest will you make me feel better? If i lay bare will you let me go? If I declaw myself will you loosen the chains? If I lap up my own lilac remains will you take pity?

im the devils son, yet even i cant escape the memories

All hail the father that abandoned me for fucking dead. Forever seperating me and my hellfire ~d
05 ノ 06.07.23 ₊˚.⋆

I tell myself its because im a faliure. Things happen around me, they fall apart. Its easier to believe there is no free will. I didnt do it. but I did. I watched as I did. I washed my hands after, the liqour stings the red. The sink is stained. I shout in the mirror that I hate myself and it breaks. ~s
06 ノ 06.07.23 ₊˚.⋆

I use a sharp edge to tell my body that I hate it. I correct myself with angry red slashes. wrong, wrong, wrong. Failing. I have to do it over again tomorrow. The repitition is grounding. Like slicing fruit. I Cant get away from me. Mirrors are everywhere. I raise a hand and my reflection cowers. ~c
07 ノ 07.07.23 ₊˚.⋆

Its almost 2pm and the stars have not been out in a while. Theres liquor staining my shoes and blood leaking from my knee, but the pain is a reminder that im alive. The stars are not shinning, and I fear its my fault. I held them too closely, whether they want it or not. And they've grown tired. I would too. Im in a cycle of push and pull, obsess and closed off. The liquor is staining me inside out. I'll never be more than this.

The stars deserve better.

fucking hate the moon for being what im not, for taking care of them when I cant. Or wont.

~s
08 ノ 3.07.23₊˚.⋆

I love you like a dying dog. I love you like my canines are falling out of my bleeding gums. Like a monster, like a beast. Like something not worth loving back. I love you like its my only command.
09 ノ 19.07.23₊˚.⋆

Twist my bones, pull and pinch at my skin, lick each falling tear as if I were the devil and you an angel, and did I tell you I love you?

Carve your name into my essence, plant the knife deep and watch the blood pour and trail down my flesh as if I were your devotion, your faith, your very own blessing

Hold me tight by the neck, dig your nails into my pale flesh, tear me into pieces and paint me in shades of blue, purple, red, yellow- did I tell you I love you

Whisper words of faux honey into my ear, let me watch as the venom drips from your tongue to your lips, let me soak in every syllable, every sound

When the sky dims and the clouds watch over the two of us, the shovel abandoned by your side and the ground is empty and open; gaping and waiting, begging for a body to fill the hole you dug for me, will you tell me you love me?
10 ノ 22.07.23₊˚.⋆

am everything.
I am nothing.

A whisper of rage
Hot bubbling blood
Pushed to my knee's, face in the mud

Bitter ice cold tendrils thrash and whip my perfect face
My mask turns liquid burning my flesh as it melts into a puddle around my knee's

I am everything
I am nothing

Suffocating paranoia, mistrust of my joy, I am a biomechanical diorama
Is my love for you just a careful
ploy?

All consuming flesh eating guilt stilled by numb rage, a sip out of an empty shot

I feel sick

Is the love I feel tangible?
Is my affection an manipulative tactive?
Is my devance knowable
What do I do when rationality is drowned out by static?

Am i my feelings?
Am i my thoughts?
I think I want to see you
cry
My stomach is all in knots.

Im terrified of my hatred
Im terrified of my numbness
I weep in fear of my anger
I cower before my greatness

I feel as if im dying time is running out
shut up, stop crying and tell me im a god

Please.
Please
Please

Please tell me im a god

11 ノ 22.11.23₊˚.⋆

You believed me like a god. I'll destory you like I am. You love me like a god. I'll betray you like a man.
12 ノ 23.11.23₊˚.⋆

Sorry for smelling like cigarette smoke and staring at you all the time and laughing too loud and touching you too often and for having a shaky voice when you speak far too beautifully for people like me. Sorry for pushing you too hard and ignoring you too often and seeming like I dont care, the truth is I cared too much. Sorry for not visiting soon enough and being the cause of your nightmares, the truth is I was far too scared of what I felt for you meant.
13 ノ 02.12.23₊˚.⋆

Last night, in a fit of psychosis; I saw god. He wrapped me in heaven and told me the night was barely starting, that I needed to stay awake for another moment longer. It was 2am and my nose was stuffy, from the heaven or from the crying, I don’t know; but god insisted I stay awake longer, so I snorted another line. I call my boyfriend my angel and spit at my own reflection when it suggests that I too am a child of god. Why did I listen? Last night, in a fight of psychosis; I talked to myself.
14 ノ 31.12.23₊˚.⋆

Anger is second nature to me; removing anger is like that of peeling the very muscle off my bone, plucking the lid off my eye, unrooting a tooth from my decaying gum, breaking my bones with your bare hands, pulling my barely beating heart from its cage; remove anger and i am nothing but hurting flesh.

15 ノ 06.01.24₊˚.⋆

I keep trying to romanticise the burning in my chest and the lines on my desk, i call them angel lines and reach a new heaven. I keep trying to romanticise the hollowness, i say im carving my heart out for another, but i never really had one in the first place. I keep trying to romanticise my 2am binges, wandering hands in cupboards, prescriptions that dont belong to me, and mixing liquor with the fake tears from my past - ive always been good at twisting words, making another pretty, but as im left alone, again, with nothing but the pill bottle to keep me company, i realise ive never really been good at that either.

the angel wings that adorn my wall are starting to shed, i miss the comfort they brought. I miss the company. I keep trying to romanticise my crippling loneliness, but ive grown tired.

keep me company, please? Romanticise my pain for me, i know you want to. Make me feel something.

16 ノ 07.01.24₊˚.⋆

its hard to write when every word i manage to put out is a scream for help, a notch added to the suicide note.

My throat is raw with unspoken apologies, vile bubbling in my throat drowned out by the guilt and liqour, its hard to write when my vision is clouded by the heaven & tears. Its hard to write when my blood stains my fingertips, leaving everything a reminder of the filth i lose myself in. I chip my nails and sharpen my teeth and leave my bones bare, its hard to write when im nothing but a vessel with no heart remaining.

Ive lost myself. its hard trying to write when i feel nothing at all. Is my guilt a ploy? Do i know what guilt is? Sometimes i think i manipulate myself, its what i do best. Am i capable of feeling like you? like anyone? Its hard to write when ive lost all sense of emotions, but i dont want to die alone. Be my sanctuary, make me feel anything at all
17 ノ 14.01.24₊˚.⋆

I bleed for every angel tear they shed, every feather off their wing due to my ungratefully rough hands is returned with heat in my chest and fire against my barred throat & those ungrateful fucking hands.
I recreate the hell fire I know ill spend my afterlife in, I repent and burn for an angel thats keeping my heart in their own ribcage, I yearn to lay beside them, but im afraid a decaying corpse would bring more warmth than me, so instead ill drown in the flames and heat, anything for them to feel safe. Im dead inside, my angel, cant you see? I'll punish myself for not feeling enough, for not loving them like they deserve. I worship you in ways that leaves me destorying myself, but i'll do anything if it means I can make it up to you. I punish myself for hurting them, but I collect their tears like a trophy, my sick little possession, I made them feel something when I cannot

18 ノ 16.01.24₊˚.⋆

Loser addict boyfriend who spends all his time obsessing over you because he has no friends and his family doesn’t like him and he has no one so he counts on you as his only form of company and if he doesn’t have company he resorts back to drugs, and the pill bottles aren’t company anymore, they’re just a pitiful reminder of everything I’ve lost in life becaude of it and will continue to lose for it, and the lines don’t feel good anymore and instead the fire in my throat is too similar to the feeling of crying my lungs out, And the alcohol doesn’t make me any more poetic, I’m just drowning and trying to romanticise it to keep myself company, because if my pain isn’t beauty, then what have I got? Loser boyfriend who has blood staining his thighs and lines on an old iPhone and a dead artist blasting through it. And fuck, the guilt, the guilt is eating me alive, and I’m not staying in third person or first because I’ve never been one to stay in one place at a time, and I’m a loser boyfriend who can’t seem to love someone enough, and I obsess and obsess and I’m disgusted in myself. Loser boyfriend who relies on drugs and a dead artist, because no one gives a fuck to really check up on him, because his heart is a bottomless pit and no amount of love and attention is enough for him, but shit, you can’t give him too much love, otherwise he’ll get scared and leave. But don’t NOT worship him, he’ll lose all confidence in himself because he relies on others for self esteem and fuck, does he even love? Narcissistic loser boyfriend. Love him or he’ll bleed out all the drugs in his blood and the pitiful dark hidden insecurities, his fangs are coming loose. this isnt a poem, im just lonely.
19 ノ 17.01.24₊˚.⋆ I fixate so heavily on religious symbolism but I dont believe in anything. I wish I did. I know the tanakh better than my own name, read the bible more times then ive spent with family. The words dont sink in. I wish I was in the desert wearing a veil made out of white chiffon, surrounded by god and silence. I would drink the fith of vodka and id know certain things to be true and id see my purpose, and ill die, but not really. I obsess over this image of myself as worthy, great, faithful, kind because I know I am not. When I die, it will be for nothing and no angels will weep like they lost their god. When I die, it will be nothing, and it will be the end. I will go into the ground and i'll stay there. All decaying and bug ridden, no glory and remembrance, no angels yearning and waiting.
20 ノ 21.01.24₊˚.⋆ needy, needy, needi, youre always so fucking needy, so patient and pilant, so needy, I think I need you to need me, do you hear me? I need you to want me when others dont, when i cant want myself, depend on me so I feel important, so i feel loved. I'll keep you locked away in my memories, where no one else but me can see your angel wings , those same wings I hang on my wall as a reminder of your faith. The guilt eats me alive, my love, but the feel of your eyes watching could make any man feel like a god, youre more than what you think. You make me a god when I feel nothing but a man, having you in any way is burning me alive and fuck I love it. The guilt is eating me away, i love when youre needy, needy.
I'll leave my coffin open for your
angel stare, my love. Make me feel alive even through my death and decaying state

21 ノ 21.01.24₊˚.⋆ at heart I am an addict, I yearn for something i know i can no longer feel, I betray and banish those closest to me for a cheap thril. I tell myself its the last time, but I know thats another one of my lies, it will never be enough and much less the last. I tell people that I am okay, and its just an episode, but i know at heart this is my death awaiting. My veins are dying slowly i think, i can barley see them even after the belt bruises stay, will you love me through the sickness? I claw at my throat to remind myself to shut up, dont speak about it, dont scare them, but my nails are blunt and the flesh is getting caught under my nails and im filthy, filthy, filthy. The blood is starting to collect along with the needle lids and angel lines, they call me a junkie and i cant fight back. At heart I am an addictive soul, i take and take and take until it kills me, and after, i'll take again. my resting form will not give up my legacy and in some twistied way, im glad. Remember me as the worst, remember me as junkie, remember me as whatever you wish, just remember me. Im scaring those I love, I feel my heart dying, my veins are hiding, my throat burns every second day, Ive lost myself in heaven; my screams are being forced down, Im left in my silence. At least you can do is remember me, even through my death
22ノ 22.01.24₊˚.⋆ bars last a day, takes my pain away, until I remember im truly alone. Ive been thinking about going to rehab, just to see people like me. To talk to someone who isnt afraid of what I can be, but even they would, I think Ive lost it. I want someone to hold me when the high gets too much, when the heaven burns me for hours on end, tell me you understand why im like this, and love me through the sickness. Ive spent hours with my face pressed against bile ridden porcelain, telling myself id get better, as i cant feel the sick burn against my skin, i know i will not get better, and i do not want to. I just want to be understood, support me through the worst, when my addictions leads to my decaying corpse, when my eyes get clouded, when my speach slurs, when i cant feel my own face, tell me you understand i am trying, tell me you will love me through the worst.
I am not pretty, I am not delicate, I am all sharp edges and faded eyes, I collect the blood from my knuckles like a reminder of my existence, I dont cry. I am spew ridden, runny nose no matter the weather, i am pale beyond a corpse, I am not alive at heart, I barely can tell who I am, I smell of flesh & bile, my skin is stained. My addiction is not pretty, my silence is not pretty. please love me through the sickness

23ノ 23.01.24₊˚.⋆ Everybody act like they care
Why the fuck do everybody act like they care?
I was dying and nobody was there
Please don't cry, baby, life ain't fair

~ lil peep

24ノ 26.01.24₊˚.⋆ confess your sins to me angel , tell your god all youre ashamed of, let me see the worst, the defiled, and let me love and forgive you. My purest of angels, no man could defile, you are created with my love in mind, your body is my temple to adore, no matter the touch - you will always belong to me. Your wings are handcrafted to cushion my fall, your bones are crafted for me to trace, your entire being is made for me, nothing will change that. I am not loving god, I am not a kind god. I posses and own what belongs to me no matter what, no matter the circumstances. No man could ever defile you, for I love you no matter what
25ノ 27.01.24₊˚.⋆ GOD CUTS HIS STOMACH OPEN to feed the angels one last prophecy – ❝ man will not make it past the third day of my demise ❞ and he kneels – over into time, an old relic, something sweet, something washed down with glazed hope and admiration. god is fate. and fate is sold to the highest bidder the knife stained with his blood preaches the world of a new divinity. God is machine, god is chance, god is i, god is you and so god is nothing at all and god watches as time fills him with flies and ridden eyes – and he slips his tongue over every misguide of this fraudulent prophet – tasting, sucking, the bitter aftermath of a future that would bleed itself dry.

god takes out his eyes before he drowns and leaves them with time to give to his child, who puts them right into her mouth. swallowing whole. – the nature of knowing. and time watches the eyes grow into roots to make his a child a function of consequence. spreading apart into thirds, the past that haunts , the present that wavers , and the future that believes.

the angels lament, they fall, and they change. and even lucifer is crazed. for she only fell because he loved god and did not want to share he pulls his wings out for he now had nothing to fly back to, and leaves a cesspool of dread in his steps over earth. raphael does not cure the plagues and instead births new ones. Holds his mouth so wide that he fills himself with disease and water. leaving man parched with simper faced delight.

micheal takes the sword and kills himself. for if not for god, there was no reason to guard man from sin and terror and all horrible. while gabriel proclaims gods last words with such menace the world begins to cave. fate is god. and if god is dead there is nothing to hold one up. for chance is a brutal bride that will slit your veins and leave you corpse ridden.
26ノ 29.01.24₊˚.⋆ Every word has been written before, everything has been said, yet the point has not been made. No one see's beyond the lines. I see the angels in the reflection of my haze, I ignore it. No one see's beyond, but thats all it seems i can do.

i woke up in the remains of the truth last night, i think i saw hell in my haze induced drugs dreams, do you even care ?
27ノ 30.01.24₊˚.⋆ I measure my guilt with how many bottles are missing, how often my heart misses a beat and how bruised my hiding veins are - so far I think the guilt is consuming me from head to toe

With every breath of betrayal an angel loses its feather, a gods title is falling. I am merely a man, weak to my lust and prone to seek out escape, I am losing myself again.

Forgive me angel, for I have not been a good god. I am losing who I once was, all progress has been lost, I am nothing but a dying man.

i’ll take another pill, snort another line, inject another, smoke another, combine them all in one to seek out heaven, I’m losing it, I don’t wish to be like this. The guilt is destroying me, please don’t let me die like a man.

28ノ 17.02.24₊˚.⋆ physical or not, some part of me has died out in the heat. I yearn for the snow, to be buried alive, to feel alive. Apart of me is dead. Burry the heatwaves. Coat me in snow. My winter is a defense mechanism, bury me in the snow. Until i cant move or speak. Im dying in the heat, cover me in snow

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Pub: 03 Jul 2023 13:50 UTC
Edit: 16 Feb 2024 15:08 UTC
Views: 1378