//------------------------------// // Interim: Journey through a suicidal mind (Pinkie's Poetry, as reproduced by T. Sparkle) // Story: Pinkie Pie's Suicide Psychosis // by Facemelt91 //------------------------------// Pinkie Pie's poetry, written before her death. Dear Faculty, It is the reccomendation of I, Twilight Sparkle, that the following poems become part of the Modern Poetry course here at Ponyville Community College Sincerely, Ms. Twilight Sparkle, BA, MA Assistant Professor of Literature and Cultural Studies Faculty of Literature School of Arts and Social Sciences Ponyville Community College ------------------------------------------------- To whom it may concern Two whom it may concern, How to describe my feelings? How the fuck do I explain All the chaos in my head? The despair, the rage, the pain “Utterly shit” is hardly poetic My life is at a point of loss Like a leg that’s gone septic No happy endings No undercover boss I’m done for Dead No more chaos in my head To whom it may concern, I don’t think I can take the pain I’m afraid of pain I’m weak, I know. But don’t stop me Don’t even bother trying You’ll have more luck with Sarah Kane At least she accomplished something Before she plucked up the courage To end her life She was twenty eight Still fresh faced Five plays to her name What a fucking waste But I’ll get no such sentiment I’ll be lucky if anyone Even goes to my funeral To whom it may concern, You don’t deserve the pain Not any more than I do So for that I’m truly sorry I know that what I’m about to do Will utterly destroy you I worry that it will Shatter the fabric of our friendship Fuck the foals up in the future Cause another war Sickness Depression Unemployment Despair Alcohol Drugs Death It comes on pretty quickly And snowballs out of control A spiral into empty darkness That rends at the soul But I know you’re strong I know you’ll be alright Life is a tunnel You’ll all reach the light But I’m staying here In the darkness The land of eternal night To whom it may concern, There’s nothing left to live for My future is black as coal That has been dunked in oil Or acrylic Sucked into a hole And shat out by God I’ve got no prospects I’ve got no drive I cannot stand being alive Trapped in my mind It’s a fate worse than death Worse than hell Worse than exile There must be something else This can’t be all there is Can it? Falling She is an echo and I am a fading noise. A muffled sound, Like one that drowned. I am falling through water and I have left my oxygen on the boat. Empty, My glass shatters into shards on the floor. Slowly, I return to the pain of sobriety. The haze has lifted, and I realise that The once bright day is now my black soul. Deliberately, I venture towards my outcome. There is a dark cloud above the canopy, and there’s a slippery climb to the top, with angry spikes underneath Me. I am alone. Purpose unknown. No feelings at all. It feels like I’m stuck in limbo. Pink Between the black and grey. Black. And grey. A single step too far. Black. A hoof that betrayed me. Hooves that once lied Now tie A choking claustrophobic blackness around my throat. One yank. I shatter into pieces and fall into blackness. I was somepony I was somepony once: Somepony who was born Somepony who grew up Somepony who went to school Stopped being a child And entered adult life. I was somepony once: Somepony who rose in the morning Somepony who left each day for work Somepony who came home Had their tea And went to bed. I was somepony once; Somepony who... started to find things Somepony who... saw darkness and fear Somepony who knew That something was wrong And knew it was near. I was somepony once. Somepony who saw death in the mirror. Could not sleep for the ghouls on the ceiling Or the demons under the bed. Ate nothing for weeks. Could not think for the barbs Inside my head. Or the poison in my soul. I was somepony once. And then death was a carpet Bleeding paper on the walls Tears flowing from open wounds Emptied bodies begging for mercy. Lies drip venom from my tongue Corrosive words My life is done. Tartan Paint Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit fuck, fuck-fuck balls Fuck: fuck, cunt, shit, arse fuck shit fuck Fuck shit fuck, arse fuck shit fuck cunt Fuck fuck cock, fuck shit arse fuck cunt Fuck fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck wanker shit fuck Shit fuck arse fuck, shit fuck arse cunt balls? Fuck... Jizz fuck arse cock, cunt arse cock, bollocks fuck arse cock Cunt fuck balls wanker; shit fuck piss cunt balls Balls shit bollocks, fuck balls wanker shit fuck Shit wanker bollocks fuck tartan paint Cunt bollocks bastard shit fuck Tartan fucking paint Fuck. Scholarship - Twilight Sparkle My proposal is sound On these two affronts Give me my funding You filthy inbred cunts #LORDOFTHEFLIES LOL PIGGY Y U SO FAT FUCK U RALPH I HAS ASSMAR SUCKS 2 UR ASSMAR U FAT CUNT ONOEZ LOOK ITS JACK MERRIDEW ONOEZ HE IS FUCKIN NAZI NO STFU HE IS HERE HAI JACK Y HAS U GOT GINGER PYEBS COZ I FKIN HAS AND I R TEH HUNTER I R TEH FUCKIN TIGER I HUNT PIGS LIKE U FAT FUCKIN NAZI BUT JACK U HAS GINGER PYEBS AT LEAST I HAS PYEBS BITCH PLZ THEY R FKIN GINGER HATERS GON HATE OMG STFU LOL U CANT SEE PIGGYS 4 HIS STOMACH ROFL Y SO FUKIN MEAN? STFU OR I BURN DIS ISLAND WAR FUCK NUKE BEAST GAS THE JEWS OMG KILL THE BEAST FUCK HIS CHILDREN MAKE THEM SHIT BLOOD AND BEG FOR MERCY SIMON IS DEAD NOW WE KILLED PIGGY OH SHIT LOL NOW U IS FUKIN BEASTS LMFAO How now gentlemen Dare I say there has been a war going on? Silly little children with your silly little war. I would expect much better from British boys. Drowning Every day when I wake up I wish that day was my last I check my mails And then my sales By nine thirty I realise That I’ve got nothing At all left to live for I just want to disappear Take a knife, and slit my Throat from ear to ear For some huge, crushing force To tear me into pieces That cannot be rebuilt The king’s horses and men Are shit out of luck I jumped off the wall And I don’t give a fuck Suicidal Ideation It has to be painless I’m so scared of the pain. I have nothing to lose But nothing to gain I tried suspension hanging It seemed easy at first but it hurt, and I don’t think I have the right noose to do a drop hanging. I don’t want to overdose Because it’s unreliable To leave it up to fate There’s no hope for banging My head against a moving train Or putting it in an oven Like Sylfilly Plath Or lung cancer, like Granny Pie Drowning is a laugh - The nearest lake is miles away. I’d jump from a high building But it’s too hard to find one I could just slit my throat From ear to ear But I don’t think I’m strong enough I’d probably get it wrong Wrist slitting doesn’t appeal Toaster in the bath is... no Carbon Monoxide is impractical I suppose if it was easier More people would do it Why bother living in this shit? I could try Ripping up the complete Works of Fillyham Shakespeare Tearing out each page And swallowing them whole Until I choked. I wish I was dead I wish it was that easy. People say it’s the easy Way out You try overdosing On sertraline Or jumping off A fucking bridge The one thing more Disappointing Than my life Is not being able to end it Initial diagnosis You’re here because You want my help Or you want to help yourself – is that right? You Are not alone Many people suffer from Depression. About one in four Actually. It is very common You’re here because You feel you cannot cope With day to day life You cannot rise in the morning Take adequate care of your personal high gene or cook yourself satisfactory meals you’re not a student anymore you can’t just live off pot noodles and toast You say your life is as absent as your diet. I think that may be an exaggeration? I think you like the idea of Suicide. But I don’t believe you’re seriously considering it What would you say are your protective factors? Family? Friends? Faith? You must have something to live for Or you’d have taken your own life Already What is it that holds you back? Fear? I have prescribed you sertraline I think that will help but may cause some anxiety Keep you awake at night You know you’re fucked When you can’t even Trust your drugs They won’t hurt you But They won’t treat you Granny Pie I am dead to the way that it makes me feel Watching you writhing there like an eel Attached to a hook. I'm in agony here, But you don’t give a fuck. I have to be strong for mum. Keep my composure - Don’t grieve till you’re gone. But you’re already gone As far as I can see, You’re not my Granny. You’re a shell of what you were A china plate, now barely a spoon Kept alive by a growling beast in the corner. Wires like tentacles, threading into your floury skin. Eyes like eggshells, Your bones like driftwood And wire wool growing from your Shrunken head, coiling around your knitting needles. When the morphine could no longer stop the pain You died. When they opened you up They found me inside. My mood black as your lungs drips from every pore. And even now You haunt me still. I cannot escape your Loving embrace. You’re always here With me. My Granny Pie, my grief, My jailor, my relief. My disease Falling backwards into hell A dry lakebed in the crater of a sore Skin that peeled from splintered bone A broken soul, forevermore. My head is like A newborn dove as it crawls from its egg Into the jaws of hungry predators. A tin can without a label. Burger without cheese. A soul without a body This is my disease. The next two poems were written by a ghost writer. I, Ghost I Ghost, ghost I’m a ghost I watch you while You eat toast What’s for dinner? Yum, a roast Chicken is what I love the most You send mail I send post No I don’t I’m just a ghost I, Ghost II I returned to earth in the dead of night Location unknown, empty and cold Grass froze when I walked near But I felt an absence of pain and fear I was dead But for the first time, I could breathe Thank God, the pain was gone I’d stopped feeling empty Even though I was nothing But incorporeal matter Passing through space Joined only by a consciousness Stray thoughts that walked Ideas with legs