Modern Victims

 

Victimized by circumstances,

Begging for more pain,

Never to protect the soul and heart,

Keep bleeding over and over again.

The feeling of desperation,

Running though the veins,

The quick dopamine sensation,

And then drowning in the desperation.

….

Uncompromisable touches,

Bloody tears falling down the face…

Who is wrong and who is right?

Another game for two in a single player mode.

Who is to blame, when the agony is all we need,

And who is the victim when we all went insane.

…

Another night spent with someone unfamiliar,

Another quick fix for the adrenaline junkie,

Another day spent in self-destruction,

Who is the hunter and who is the prey?

We are so fucked up and yet we are okay,

We are so unstoppable and yet we cannot move a step.

…

Who is asking for a savior?

Who is the judge during our doomsday?

We are so beautifully insane,

Lack of sympathy is our mantra

- Psychopaths with sweet voices.

We are so dependent on the convenience,

Annihilation of ourselves is our way of expression.

The Villain era is the trend,

We don’t care if we stay the same.

…

Victimized by circumstances,

Begging for more pain,

Who care of the soul’s protection,

All we need is the sweet taste of the TORMENT!!!

Villain Era

 

Mistake after mistake, colder I grow,

Isolated by my own distrust and disbelieve,

Wrong judgement, wrong call,

Is my perception lacking?

Rerolling all the old tapes of cringe moments,

Torturing myself.

...

This life of movie black-and-white,

These series of bad scenes,

There is no writer nor director,

Improv went wrong:

-no notes, no feedback.

The stage is dark, the curtains fall

The room is silent, I am at fault?

If the comedy is not landing,

If the joke is misunderstood again

Am I the one to blame?

…

But the life is far from being some type of comedy,

Let’s get real – it is the tragedy of every soul

Is the loneliness of being authentic?

The irony of being honest,

Wearing all of who you are proudly on your sleeve.

And when they are done studying you;

The horror sets in motion –

Nightmare of the Genuine Soul

Being mocked, and kicked; forgotten, a backup plan;

The one who is always there when they are needed,

Tossed away when everything is fine.

…                                     

And after all the sadness comes the time of the psycho-thriller

Where you are the main villain with amazing arch

And all the stupid heroes try to make you pay

For what they have created, 

Blinded by the Main Character Complex of another's life.

And yes, I live in my Villain Era, why should I be ashamed?

When every action got its consequence,

And every hero follows stupid human path

Without realizing how their view is so fucked up.

…

Life is not a movie nor a stage piece to kill an hour or two.

Be careful when you write on someone else’s pages.

You are not as powerful narrator as you think,

You are a just temporary phase.  

Because someone is gracious

To let you have their spot light. 

The Art Of Being Reborn

 

Let’s create an art!

The life is mine, the words as well.

I use them to cut deep as if I hold razorblade,

I don’t care how many people left.

I can burn down every shaky bridge that I have created,

Safety first, I need to feel secure when walking on my path.

Let me create!

The life is mine, the paintings as well!

I don’t pose with fake smiles in front of those I abandoned,

I don’t need blind followers, they are unreliable, just a burden.

What is wrong with me, you might ask.

Why I am so defensive, so hard to read.

I have been called ungrateful so many times

That my attitude is now a gray zone – nothing is morally right or wrong.

I can do what pleases me - 

If you can't handle it, call it even and proceed.

Unlike those missing from my circles, I value my time.

I need my brain stimulated, my heart thrilled, my voice heard.

Who cares about the years spent – the price is paid, no way back.

…

So let me burn and destroy,

Let me flood and annihilate!

Let me see the ashes left from my inner raging fire,

Let me see the mud covering this place after the merciless flood

Of my unleashed emotions – call me psychopath.

And let me tell you how good it feels when the pain you endure

Is inflicted by your own decisions and failures, your own choices,

Not placed upon you by those who tried to suppress you 

In fear they might lose control. - Surprise, they lost!

Only the strongest will survive! 

Then why I should carry the weakest on my shoulders?

And the moment it gets real hard, they run away leaving me fading.

…

And in the end when all the stories are written down,

And all the songs are sang with petrifying voices,

And all the gruesome paintings are on the huge display,

And all of you are provoked to find yourselves in my creations,

Then I can finally shall rise from the ashes of my conscience,

Like a phoenix - I shall roam the skies, fly freely.

And until the cycle is repeated over and over again

-Fly phoenix, fly my little monster – high up in the endless sky.

There Is Beauty In The Duality

 

In the middle of the endless night I sit forgotten,

Never imagined my life as a wreck,

Never imagined to feel like I am a failure.

And yet here I am, doubting everything I am,

Question myself if I am still me.

Deconstructing my beliefs, my thoughts, my taste,

My likes and dislikes as if I am a puzzle,

I start anew building up myself with better walls this time.

After every fall is harder to be close to what I used to know.

I am getting better as a builder – these walls are pure perfection.

…

It all fell down – the innocence is long gone, the eyes are sparking with the devil’s flame.

The reflection in the mirror looks like me but she is no more.

…

She is no longer like the sun shining bright for all those who are close to me.

She is more like the moon – shines enough to show the way and yet nothing is fully revealed.

She is no longer peaceful like the small river, trying to find her way to the sea.

She is a full blown sea storm ready to sink the ship regardless the cost.

She is no longer the soft wind which caresses someone’s cheek.

She is a tornado ready to crumble every house on her way.

She is no longer happy or angry, she is no longer mad or disappointed.

She no longer feels, she doesn’t care who walks out of her life – she is self-sufficient.

She can easily cut you out just because she pleases if your presence is not a contribution to her life.

She is She-Wolf – walking thorny paths alone;

She is She-Demon – torturing them with her silence; never gives explanation.

…

She is me – sometimes I feel her distant; sometimes she is next to me.

Loneliness doesn’t bother me, I can remain silent forever.

The reflection in the mirror shows my face but my soul is not the same.

Sometimes I miss her, the child I was, the hope I had, the dreams I dreamt.

But now I am different, my old desires are gone.

Cold hearted, calculating, emotionless and even cruel,

I can safely use them to describe me – I can finally adopt the words said about me.

This time is not the mark of disgrace they try to enforce on me.

These are medals of honor for the battles I have survived.

Sometimes the only way to battle all your demons is to embrace them

And make the Hell you are going through your comfortable home.

…

She is me and I am her – Ying and Yang of one’s soul.

Gentle or cruel – it’s you who picks the side you meet!

The Familiar Game of Chess

 

Welcome to my paradise full of pain and deception.

I have created it for you just to feel as if you are home.

Look around the green grass full of painful memories

That you have left and then disappeared.

Look at the river of salty tears,

Those I shed when you kept repeating the same mistakes

Thinking I will never notice, I am not blind.

Take a look around, it’s all you like – a peaceful land.

The trees are made of the lies you have told me

And made me believe they were reality which awaits me.

No need to thank me, I am learning from the best.

Take your morning walk on the pavement built from all the emotions

You made me feel – this is the reason why the road is so bumpy.

You have made me think that I am the one at fault.

Could it be more cruel?

---

Now welcome to my hell full of truths and fallen masks.

This is how my home looks like – ugly and unpredictable

Just like you made me feel.

I have come to take your soul back to where it is supposed to be,

Reliving all you did to me, this time you are on the burning chair.

I can watch how I break your heart to little pieces,

I can suck all the liveliness from your soul.

And then I will shamefully try to make it as if it is okay to suffer.

All in reverse – I torture you and you stay silent trying to understand

What you have done this time or I am the insane.

These mind games are fun, I didn’t realize it back then.

Hell or heaven, different points of view.

Some people feed on smiles, others on tears.

Who is the predator and who is the prey?

---

Love is a game of chess; we are the figures on the black-and-white board.

Every move is important – you either win or lose.

Until you learn how to play it, don’t think of getting any trophy.

Every loss costs a piece of you, being damaged is the aim.

Every win costs a piece of your sanity 

– good or bad, the outcome is the same.

You are either hero or a villain, no in-between.

It’s up to us if we want to break it even - no damage done

Or keep playing to feel the bizarre pleasure of being hurt.

…

And now you know why I am so out of my mind,

I am not the sweet sunshine, devil in disguise.

I have paid the price of being the losing side,

I have enjoyed the pain, I have nothing left to gain.

Shame, fear, tears, broken soul – it’s all in the past.

Let me show you the other side of me

Where I am the winner and you are the one in agony.