In a world so broken

How can you keep your chin up?

In a world of torn buildings and gravestones

How can you ever bring yourself to smile again? 

In fields that bled red in the last rain,

How can you plant flowers and dance, forgetting their pain? 

Is it a life worth living, if always in guilty memory?

Perhaps not, but can't you at least believe. 

I can feel my skin peeling

As the smoke curls into view

I let the breeze eat away

At the thoughts in my head

I can smell the hazy thickness

Hanging on the air

Blinding my eyes and crackling in my ears,

I don't want to hear you, I swear;

Let the flames lick the sky,

"What happened here, oh my!"

I wonder that too, knowing at the bitter in my belly

Isn't this ridiculously silly?

~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: Not based in personal stuff, just character thoughts/song lyrics

I let my thoughts take me far away

To a place where I can freely wonder;

Far from fake feelings and empty words,

Far from a broken world, torn asunder.

I lose myself on these unknowable tides

Finding, forging my own time as it bides;

An inscrutable question soon flutters by, 

For how much longer can I hide? 

What makes warmth so addicting?

It draws one in and steals their heart

After that first taste, it's so easy to be blinded--

Thoughtlessly, desperately, craving for another experience.

Little does the mind realise

But each consecutive boost reaches a lesser, then lesser height,

Until one day, it simply won't be enough;

You couldn't stay afloat,

And now you're plummeting down towards nothing good--

Cold and stiff, and wishing for a better world;

One less cruel and frigid. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: Subjects covered are not necessarily meant to be taken literally, I'm only drawing a comparison between things I've seen/felt before. It's very much of an interpretation/dramatic artistic licence and less actual information about anything in particular.

my favorite days are the foggy, grey ones

where the tips of the mountains disappear in the clouds

and light rain freckles your face.

they’re my favorite because you don’t have to be okay.

when it’s sunny and blue skies and bright

you’re expected to be sunny as well

because who could be hurting on such a nice day?

but grey skies let you be yourself.

it feels okay to cry if the world is crying with you.

my tearstained face matches the rainstained windows

and it feels okay.

okay to let the grin slip off my face.

okay to be a bit more dim.

okay to be not quite okay.

because if even the earth needs to cry sometimes,

why should I hold my tears back?

Blind-- 

You look--

And I think you see;

But 

No, of course,

Your unseeing eyes skim

Right

On past

Without hesitation

And I

Am forced 

To wonder whether this world

Will 

Someday see

With a miracle from heaven,

Or 

Simply

Forevermore stay blind.

the fog rolls in around her,

its cool fingers running down her skin.

she tries to breathe but it swamps her lungs

leaving her gasping for breath. 

the world is hazy in her eyes.

she reaches out her hand,

tries to claw her way out,

but it slips tauntingly through her fingers.

her hand grasps onto thin air

before tumbling down. 

dew drops collect on her eyelashes as  

the fog seeps into her mind, 

clouding her thoughts. 

it wraps around her ankles, 

pulling her down,

before she vanishes in the darkness.

for a moment, 

she's alone. 

but then a hand cuts through the fog, 

reaching out towards her, 

and she wraps her hand around it, 

letting it pull her back into the light. 

Smiles, laughter, eyes closed--

Crinkled with fake emotion under a mask;

It's not that bad,

Not, until it is.

And then the dark cloud 

Bursts out of my head

Steals my vision slowly,

Scrapes away at my hearing,

And makes me taste nothing but stone.

I'm too lost and far-away in the head

To care if anyone sees,

So good thing they don't;

'Cause I'm alone, even surrounded--

I'm gone,

To somewhere darker

And I wonder

If leaving

-- to somewhere, anywhere else--

Would even help.

It doesn't.

Maybe I just haven't been to the right place yet.

I wonder if perhaps the little green and white capsules

would work.

Or maybe slinking away into a blanet-fortress

Knowing there's something bigger to fight tomorrow

would ease my aches. 

Maybe sleeping unrestful hours, haunted by prancing nights

would make me forget it all. 

It never does,

But it's all I can do to stay afloat. 

rI hear the Sea herself singing

--and what a monstrous song it is--

One of tumult and the enraged vengeance of the drowned,

Of stinging lungs and stomachs sinking with their ship;

Of begging the dark grey sheets above

To refrain from inflicting another day of torment, 

Pleading with them to let go of their sorrow and anger --

To rest at last; 

But alas, all is to no avail. 

For stinging deluges fall angry, inflamed upon her,

Drawing transparent blood as they slice through

And attack her at heart, making her scream and thrash.

With the movement, 

Every inch of her oceans churn and twist in agony,

Each moment

One of further splintering-- 

Boards giving way, hulls crumbling;

More fearful souls joining the ranks of the drowned,

A gift the Sea can no longer revel in.