Staring at the cold weather through the window,
think of all the ways I can win dough.
Every idea.. BINGO! But my two cents don't pay the rent though.
And I cant eat my thoughts for food so I'm stuck in limbo.
That's a food for thought that fucked up my credentials,
Because they kept offering me a penny for my thoughts until I said I was bruised and scarred so they gave me time off for being "mentally unstable".
If I tell them I'm not, I have to go back to my job of making my way to the hell hole but what choice do I got when It's either that or keep playing the role of scapegoat.
It's driving me insane and the pills I pop wont make the pain go. Meanwhile my stairway to heaven is literally blocked by my guardian angel.
when he first walked in Limbo
he had drank a load of gin
passed out with legs akimbo
he was drooling on his chin
the vision came with sound and smell
that felt entirely real
a twilight woodland short of Hell
with textures he could feel
then riding on the bus from work
fatigue would overwhelm
and send him where the spirits lurk
inside that nether realm
the image came to such extent
it left him with no doubt
Limbo Land was where he went
each time that he passed out
every night and sometimes day
around those woods he hiked
and once he found he knew the way
he went there when he liked
he'd wake each morn and fantasise
he'd keep the day at bay
mesmeric eyes they'd hypnotise
the sun to stay away
and clinging to the sandman's hand
he'd count a few more sheep
then slip back into Limbo Land
where he belonged: asleep
that limbo world of dark and light
that's stitched around life's seams
hidden between day and night
and conscious thought and dreams
with gloomy skies, no sun to warm
just forests lit cold blue
a place where dusk shades are the norm
or daybreak's overdue
and every time he came to rest
that scene would play once more
so each time further he'd progress
and deeper he'd explore
of Limbo very little's known
but from glimpses he had stole
its where the trees of life are grown
and in each trunk a soul
there's mossy faces set in bark
whose limbs reach to the sky
from knotty mouths, their message- stark
"you'll come here when you die"
so many times Limbo he'd seen
he came to understand
all he'd become and all he'd been
was growing from that land
his lifespan told across tree rings
and written through the grain
with all he was and all the things
he'd surely do again
his future though he could not gauge
but one thing surely true
no turn in fortunes could assuage
the pain life put him through
the life where nothing went as planned
was growing in that field
and frankly more than he could stand
to know his fate was sealed
to come again would be a waste
to live the same life through
so narcolepsy he embraced
to fall asleep on cue
he'd enter in that world he'd found
and lucid dream a saw
then cut his tree down to the ground
reincarnate no more
"I'll chop it right down into planks
and make them what I please
another life for me? no thanks,
no more bad memories"
he'd burn the bark that wore his face
the branches, leaves and roots
but take an acorn just in case
it blessed him with a shoot
and then the time I saw him last
I asked how things were going
he told me 'Limbo's just so vast
with new trees always growing'
and now he never leaves his head
he's bed ridden and ill
he's comatose but not brain dead,
just searching Limbo still.
I sink into the first circle of my bed,
laying in Limbo,
Your essence roams back and forth,
between my ears.
I taste the residue
of your monotone voice,
salivating at the thought of
Our nights were simply
We watched the clouds
blend into the sky,
as the rich colors became
I swear they breathed.
I gently touched your
As it rose and fell,
The scenery above us
resembled bonded youth,
like an orchestra of splendor.
I desperately try to relive this feeling,
our captivating high.
It has disintegrated.
You have melted away
and life is somber.
you have become a bland figure
without a face.
You have become the static
from the television in the silence
of a post-apocalypse.
You hide within irrelevance...
but the way you once moved,
will remain Imprinted
in my loveless thoughts.
© 2016 D.M.V
There was once a little doll
Who a a dear stitched smile
Her hair was dressed in flowers and all
And nothing could match up to her style
She had buttons for eyes
And her owner's hair for hers
She would tell the little girl lies
And every night the kitten purrs
Mama kept her in a glass box
That's where the kitten would watch her
As she breaks through all of the locks
And wake the little girl from her slumber
"Let's play a game."
She would say.
"There'd be no one to blame."
She said as a stitched doll may.
Everyone was in their dreams
Except for the two, with an ax
Throughout the house, there would be screams
Accompanied by a hundred whacks.
still scared of the rest... I'll update it next time TT^TT
EDIT: done~! It got me so paranoid and scared while writing this, omg
Im hurting her,
by being with you,
and the more I like you,
the more I lose her,
I cant carry you both in limbo,
and I cant pick or chose one of you,
him or her,
or none for me,
you can not leave me,
for i need you to help me stand tall,
so i cannot chose,
and know i will weep,
when one decides to cut ties,
and i hope you remember the good times,
before my heart ruined everything we had.
If someone ever asked me like 'What did you lose?'
I'll tell them 'everything', I had nothing to choose
when death of my muse put me in drug,meth & booze.
I was rotting in hell to die; To live, I refused.
I'm inside a room having no windows and door.
I gotta find myself first. What should I live for?.
How did I end up here? It's warm but I'm frost.
I need a way out here, and it feels like I'm lost.
Is this a dream in life or life in a dream?
I don't feel scared or shitty and I won't scream.
Darker the room becomes, more brighter gets beam.
A ray of hope hit my heart & changed my life's scheme.
Then my life gave me something, I met someone new.
We spoke a little at first, but I felt like I knew
her many a year. She just came out of blue.
Still got no clue. Don't know what's fake & what's true.
She helped me, yet she used to call me for help.
I used to help her with things, happy I felt.
'Thank you' she spelt, in a 'love you' I melt.
She loves me like I love her; something we felt.
But cupid had something else in store for us both.
Stupid me dreamt a day when both of us troth.
Let dreams be dreams, life be life, she loves me no more.
Baby! I'm back in limbo; like once I was before.
I kneel on the ground desperately searching in the ashes and embers of who I used to be. The flecks of falling memories whisper and whirl lightly around me.
If I can find a fragment within these piles of haunted bones. Perhaps, then I can change what has been done and undo my damaging blunders.
Time is frozen here in my own perpetual limbo. I don't wish to go forward but back to a time when I was blissfully naive and innocent, not bitter and tragic.
Yet, day after day, I'm doomed to repeat this infinite process and never become the husk of my past self.
Words have gone and I'm left in the maddening solitude.