Monthly Archives: April 2012
Doctor please could you help me?
Cut me open, split me at the seams.
Cut just to see inside what God has given me.
But I cannot feel angry, no I cannot
Or in hell my soul shall eternally rot.
For this is what my Maker has given me
Be happy, be grateful, why is it so hard to see?
Hard to see why He has done it, the plan slowly unfurls
9 long years just to find the pearl
The shiny little nugget of wisdom and the lessons I learn
However I still feel hurt and angry at Him thus I shall burn.
I remember it as if it were yesterday.
The day I lost my way.
All the memories long lost and forgotten
All the memories I cannot rid myself of because they are too rotten.
The one in particular while under the knife
The one where I am happy but am nothing and nothingness is,
The sweet serenity of no pain
The sweet numbness of nothing to lose but nothing to gain
The sweet taste of victory becomes my bane.
Only to go back to a world trapped in a body tied by chains
Broken legs and pain,
Oh God the pain,
And the shame
Shame of feeling the mud inside my veins.
Shame of the addictive way these drugs hit my brain,
Oh God I may be going insane.
Fog covers my vision and there is little that remains,
But the pain and shame,
And yet here I lay in this bed maimed.
You have denied me my Maker more than I can say,
Why take me to where I swim in the sunset just to forsake?
That is correct, my Maker has taken me home,
But then pushed me back into this Hell to roam
Broken and battered,
I lay here tattered.
My face lights as I see the end of the tunnel,
My time here has slowly come to an end after pushing through rubble.
Screaming I have made it out alive,
Let the Angels sing as I crawl out from under the knife.
This is my letter to you God, contradictory rambles.
But just like you made my body, my words are in shambles.
I forgive you every day that I have a moment of clarity,
But please forgive me the days when I curse you using vulgarity.
New roads and paths lay before me,
Roads you may not wish to see
Tear away this fleshy human skin.
Release the beast and free the monster within.
Let the demon roam free to sin.
Oh god here we go again.
The devil inside is laughin.
But I know its not just the demon within,
Cause on my face is a big evil grin.
I love the demon I have become.
I love knowing that I can be numb.
I love hating everyone around me
Anger is what I will always and only be.
Gotta get out of this place before I go crazy.
Please for the love of god somebody save me.
I’m sick of the same old shit everyday.
I need to break the cycle but how and which way?
I need a road to open up with rays of sunlight.
But instead I’m stuck here, oh god it’s so dark I have no sight.
Stuck in this place where darkness reigns.
In the darkness I turn what’s left of me insane.
Mark Sellers 11
The darkness spread across her room as she slowly wakes from a nightmare she can remember vividly. However what she doesn’t know is her nightmare is about to become real. The darkness turns into creeping veins spreading across the room til they reach her bed. The shadow veins rope around her and slowly drag her into the abyss of her mind. There inside the darkest reaches of her head is a demon. A monster that lives and thrives off of the pain and suffering of human beings. One that is very sadomasochistic by nature. A monster that has no name and no gender, a monster that is the embodiment of humanities sick twisted desires. A monster that was born out of pure necessity, one that could take on all the things us humans don’t want. It’s one true goal was to push human beings to the point of rape, murder and torture. To twist and contort everything we are. It waited in the shadow til the time was right to push people over the edge, and if they disobeyed then he took them to the far reaches of the mind, the part where everyone stuffs things and never want’s to clean it out. Where your worst nightmares become your best friend as they slowly cut you to pieces only to sew you back together again and start over. This is what people meant by Hell, and this thing is the Devil. She slowly opens her eyes to see herself on an operating table in a dank, dark, concrete hole. It’s shape shifts and forms continuously constantly changing into what you hate and fear the most along with your own demented desires. It’s voice is very strange constantly changing pitches and tones. “You were supposed to be one of my star pupils. You want to torture and kill as much as the next deranged psychopath I’ve twisted and yet you defy me. This is Hell and I am The Devil. Because you have disobeyed my will and commands my unholy judgement has turned to face you.” The world does not miss this woman. She was never born. She no longer exists on this plane of reality. She is a prisoner inside her own personal slice of Hell. All the while the Devil has claimed another soul, another toy for his sick desires. Another human to turn and twist til she enjoys it all just as much as him. Only in this story she remains shackled to that dark, dank, concrete hole. She may enjoy it, and she may even start to like it, but in the end she remains just a nonexistent entity. Welcome to The Mortification of the Flesh.