Untitled (Poem By Nameless Heller)

As i close my eyes and vision the pain
inflicted in my veins/
the scars are the reminder that I’m alive so that i don’t go insane/
Traumatized by the blood stains, I woke up on the right lane/
Art is the therapy i need, to make everything subliminal especially the pain/

I used to novate the pain with cigarettes,
so I quit cause I was digging my grave with a coffin nail/

5 years having Conflicting opinions with my
subconscious, doctors said I was deranged, in simple terms they titled me as insane/
Now I’m working hard to engrave my name in your mind so that the day i die, may
the earth be filled with your teardrops like they were rain/

I’m doing this for survival not for the
fortune nor the fame/

I’m like a pipe bowl waiting to be burned up
cause I can feel the flames/

I vision blood gutting from my neck like it was cut using a fan blade/
I’m too controversial, maybe it’s because I don’t want to die a gubbin/
I want to die a vigilante that speaks his own opinion call me the black robin/
People sobbing cause im a retarded lost soul that build his own reputation from nothing/
Im still upcoming, building a legacy for my family, aint that something/
An atheist turned agnostic, how can I be ordinary when we have people altering their faces and breasts//
I am insane in my own way, so don’t be surprised when the pain becomes too much for me and I hang myself with a belt//
Me myself, I never wept nor dealt with the pain, I just avoided it but you can’t avoid it when you have scars imprinted on your pelt//
Family also takes things easily, just because the medical report says I’m okay it doesn’t mean the trauma inflicted in my brain will ever fade//
Now I just contemplate about nearly losing my life, now my life is full of anger and hate//
My life is like a bad sitcom written by Martians about ‘the life of a Good Samaritan who went astray//
Like a stray dog I only have myself ,so I pick up a note pad and place my deepest thoughts in it like ‘how im fey’//
Cigarettes nullify the pain, if only the pain was measured by the ashes in my ash tray//
A friend of mine once said ‘ey! you got issues man!’ but he doesn’t know that when I look in the mirror I despise the image I see cause deep within I am not this way//
With my teeth starting to decay, I’ve lost all hope on mankind and its resources maybe that’s why I always dream about throwing myself in the freeway//
Because death is inevitable, but before I lose my life let me vivify and create an image of myself in simple terms let me procreate//
Not a creation of god because if I am, then it prolly means that im the canvas that stayed in the attic before it got hit by the paint//
I shed a tear thinking about the pain my family has experienced in my lifetime, one thing I learnt is that if there is a god he is not a saint//
Like the time I saw my sister faint how I lost all hope, my love for god became faint/


 
 


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