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thoughtsdie wrote a new post
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Read MoreBlood and bad breath The taste of morning Blood and coffeeAnemic breakfast Blood and kissesDrowning in dreams Blood and bladesSink deep in flows Blood and loveA prisoner inside myself Blood and beerDespair to be savored Blood and silenceEmptiness thinks Blood and snowI...
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thoughtsdie wrote a new post
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Read MoreEvery kissAn unfamiliar place sitsSinking in my heart of abyssJust how long will it be this? What does “love” mean Boiling floodsFloating mudslides Bone breaking hugsGhosts trapped in breaths A reason to stay aliveA reason I don’t want What does it...
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![Profile picture of Fia Naturie]()
The questioning and answering, then the admission at the end made this a good piece to read.
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thoughtsdie wrote a new post
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Read MoreScab fur balls piling in carpet A dull blade in need of being replacedBlood sleeping on my handsSoaking into a tranceRealities skin torn wide apart The songs continuesA smile on my legHair in my face Falling with the weightHead...
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![Profile picture of Willow]()
“Tasting the self I wish was dead”
That line rattled my skull with its power and relatability. I wonder how many of us walk this, talk this and live it…
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![Profile picture of thoughtsdie]()
So many
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![Profile picture of thoughtsdie]()
thoughtsdie wrote a new post
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Read MoreIt’s that same song again, the one I imagine playing at my funeral. A funeral I’m late to everyday. Lying in bed, I wait for someone to notice the dead body and have it removed. But...
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![Profile picture of Thomas W. Case]()
Powerful. Stay alive.
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![Profile picture of thoughtsdie]()
Why stay at all
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![Profile picture of Cipher]()
Powerful and profound… The Samurai believed that everyday one should consider oneself already dead. That we should meditate daily on death in the worst possible ways. Tis far out… Takes great bravery to endeavor upon such reflections. That is the kind of bravery I see here. The bravery to gaze into the abyss, which is perhaps an inevitability. Very nicely done thoughtsdie.
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thoughtsdie and
Still Crazee are now friends
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This drips with grit and shadow—each line a pulse of pain and dark devotion.
You’ve poured the body’s ache and the soul’s rust into a river of red, unafraid to bleed.