Insanity

Confessions and pathways of a psychotic

[tiffanytwistedalice]

While I drift in the tunes of moon river

I think of what had happened and I shiver

The thought of the pain that is yet to come

Lingers on my skin and pierces my ear drum

I become deaf to mute the madness in my mind

As the voices are screaming to understand your kind

Promises after promises, disappointments after disappointments

While you sit there understanding and

[tiffanytwistedalice]

It’s been a while since my finger tips lingered in sadness as they slide across the screen

[tiffanytwistedalice]

He didn’t give me the universe, he showed me the way..

-TTA

11/1/2019

[tiffanytwistedalice]

And even when you give them the world, they would still burn you in it.

[tiffanytwistedalice]

And then I realized that He will never be hers as She will never be his; a truth so harsh it shattered their existence..

-TTA

[tiffanytwistedalice]

Never have I ever

I never thought he meant the most until I felt his black ghost,

I never thought I understood him most until his mind was my soul’s host,

I never thought I'd doubt him the most until his voice shook me lost,

I never thought I’d miss him most until his absence lied in his posts,

I never thought I’d give him the most until that night full of toasts,

I never thought I’d push him most until that day he began to boast,

I never thought I would love him the most until I resided near his heart’s coast.

[tiffanytwistedalice]

This time

This time it wasn’t my black pit of melancholy This time it wasn’t another bully This time it wasn’t comprehended fully. This time it was the hands of his On the body of mine And my silence was that of mimes. This time it wasn’t passion, It was bruises and scars filled with purple fashion. This time was the first time The first time where I understood, what it feels like to be hit good.

This time forgiveness seems obtuse, as you label your self a victim of abuse.

[tiffanytwistedalice]

Self Hatred

He's really tearing us apart He's tearing me apart.. He's forcing my depart Not between myself and the others, But between myself and heaven And it's lit perfect seven.. Where I thought that number was delusional, yet it was much of conclusional.. I loved my sins much more, Which led me to my current open door A road so gloomy, so dark Not even a spark I'd drown in self hate And I'd grow on self pitty.. Making that number eight; Loving me would be the last sin, Maybe I'd learn to isolate the loneliness within. Sir, I must depart Cheers for my heart! A heart that can never be loyal, Only a carrier for turmoil.

[plastic-needles]

The Jazz

Sleepless at 5 am is nothing that I’m not used to. 

Its the Jazz that keeps me up.

Just another track and I’d try to sleep, for the millionth time, 

But what do you know, it’s that kind of night for the millionth time.

I try to see past the visions of my paralyzed future, and immature past.

Another glass, another cigarette, just one more track of that bittersweet Jazz.

I keep imagining how she’d dance to it, how she’d look on my arm arriving somewhere. 

She keeps me up at night, but not in the ways I want her to. 

But here I am at my happy ending with her, it’s nothing but a smile and a wave goodbye. 

We turn the page.

In my new page I want flowers -not for me of course, for some sweet lady who would look into my eyes and get lost. 

In this new page that I’m talking about, I want to see love, not just hear about it in Woody Allen movies. 

In this new page I’ve just turned, I want to run wild with a smile on my face. 

In this new page I want colors. 

I want to be addressed as Mister, not just by a nickname.

I’ll be Mr.Motherfucker if it looks good on a business card. 

I want to turn the page so bad, that I went out and tore the page from its place.

But I’ve torn pages before. I’ve torn so many that if I piled them they’d make a book.

Maybe I’ll get that book published someday. Maybe I’ll name that book love.

And maybe we’ll make a movie of it later. I’ll be the protagonist, and you’ll be my heroine.  

[tiffanytwistedalice]

You left me in the shatter and walked away. While I’m here in the ruins counting each piece of clay..

Druggy Virgo

[tiffanytwistedalice]

The End

See it’s not love that defines us Love is overrated Love is a lie Love is a bluff On the other hand.. Tragedy is what shapes us, Bends us, And breaks us. I fought so hard and so long For a love that was always wrong. Even the truth in her tongue, was nothing but manipulations won. Yet, I still fought and fought and fought Knowing it was shattered boat That could no longer float Not in a sea of madness Or veins of Agnes..

[tiffanytwistedalice]

Death of a Man

“You changed..”, he said.

“Yes, I have. I learned to allow the monster within me to inhabit every bit of my soul, tearing any emotion I had left, leaving me stranded.”

  He stood in silence and stared into her eyes where the cemetery that she onced buried her conscious in, flared through, murdering every bit of hope he had..

-Druggy Virgo

[tiffanytwistedalice]

To a woman so heartless..

[tiffanytwistedalice]

First Impressions

“First impressions do count..”

As I stood and realized that they are merely nothing but the truth.

It’s the moment where people reveal their true nature unwillingly, before they create,

the image of “good” sought by your heart.

So yes, believe, in those as they are simply;

your intuitions, drawing armors against the monsters in and out of you..

-Virgo

[tiffanytwistedalice]

Numbness, in my opinion..

Her fingers shook with numbness as she could not feel her tips no longer; the same damn way her heart gave up on her misfits. She can no longer feel confused as her heart died that night a death so cold that touching him with her tips made no difference anymore; she cannot feel anything too. It’s a deadman’s party, leave your body and soul at the door. Because if you are not able to feel your heart insanely sedated by the touch of both of their tips as you greed for more- lusting, slithering, and focused-, then what’s it worth anymore? But then again, I feel the heat of my tears wounding my cheeks as they drop, filled with pity of myself’s inability to feel anymore.

-Virgo

[tiffanytwistedalice]

Same Head

Well, there I am again; On the same bed, in the same house, with the same people, just a different buzz. I thought I was wiser than this, but I never was.. All of their stories are different but the drugs never were. What is, though, that all of the tragedies end in the exact same way; Me, On the same bed, In the same house, With the same people, Doing another drug wishing it would serve you what I couldn’t, and serve me dead.

[tiffanytwistedalice]

The Art of the Storm

Standing in the middle of the storm, no blankets or shields to keep you safe and warm. Yet, the storm felt like home All the crashing and shredding of our bones; explained perfect sense, if at all. How can you not expect it? A meteor is a star that went misdirected, and I sir, fell from my sky into your force field creating an explosion larger than the big bang, when you left my soul to hang. It hung so quiet so dead, A day we both saw forth and dread A day were I presented my soul to the executor, and you presented your head. It was never a one man show, but I made my feelings sound hollow. The executor said, “You must lie and hide as your screams, tears, and highs, will keep his soul fed in a bed of lies; If thou must wish to sacrifice your being to his, you must follow your path to this darkened abyss.” I replied with absolute acceptance As it was a road I always traveled in a hell of reluctance. It was a road I was used to, The first step is burning misguided fate, where I promise you my soul screams louder than a virgin’s scream if it were raped The second is worse, It’s the stage where I accept that it is an infinite curse The third is decomposition, As my soul refuses to die, but decomposes while I’m alive feeding off my bacteria of sin as loving you was never a virtue. The fourth is the stillness I reach after displacing my self into three, gazing at the work of anger slicing out every inch of me. And as the sharp blades slide slowly over my flesh, I try to think of the parts that lacked your touch, There isn’t any.. Nothing in certain for the executor to cut. Every part, bit, and thought has you, leaving me stranded in the middle of the storm.. While you walk away and I remain, in the numbness I’m in as I endured too much pain. The never ending touch of your soul made the executor walk away, Too deep and profound it cannot be defined into human clay The amount of pain, The infinite storm, and my neck circled by your chain Is why my fifth step never rose to claim Or the reason this poem has no ending …