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Jun 2020 · 168
.
melinoe immortal Jun 2020
.
The moment the smile
became bittersweet.
In the blink of an eye
you disappeared.
And words written or spoken
cannot stop the pain.
Mar 2019 · 1.6k
Heart Failure
melinoe immortal Mar 2019
I scream, inside the tomb
--
they placed the bomb
---

that used to beat and left it rot
----

wondering what was the cause
----

of such a breakdown.
Denial is great, when people  refuse to blink into reality and admit permanent damage done to souls that have survived incomplete wreckage of spirit. Denial as a mechanism of spiritual stagnation, impedes possible progress and progression into acceptance and resolution of problems; forgiveness. Denial morphed into a coping mechanism for the weak, covering mental instability.  Inevitably, those who have been let down, rejected;  in darkness their insides that has been unwillingly painted by others. Some still suffer mentally inside their little box, accepting what has been done, the past that has been and the current battles to overcome.  The blackness is there in a present term, and  hope as well for the ones who scream silently, but carry no sign of it in the morning. The scream of the child buried and the smile and promise of the grown up to itself, never to become an example of the ones who are in denial. Never to cause physical or mental harm that is untreatable, to bring light to those who have been through the same. To never forget, but learn to expect everything from people; not imitate sources of malice, be vigilant and learn that denial and not taking responsibility can only lead to a progressive spiritual Disintegration.
Feb 2019 · 2.6k
Psyc(h)oma- Ward 24
melinoe immortal Feb 2019
All his senses
hyperactive.
Eyes open, fixed on a light, blue chair.
The black-coated people, silent companions to him
in the office.
He is half inside
full of flesh on the outside,
believes he is indestructible.

The words, that fly out of his mouth
chewed up, broken  like his soul,
broken down to mgs of clozapine.

Lack of sleep, the benzos failed to work.
REM cycles are out of stock
and alternatives are unavailable.

The living nightmares are his companions;
in his eyes a blank stare of someone
lost.

He looks around for a couple of
seconds as if he does not listen to
the questions, he is being asked.
He open-closes his orbits
rapidly in a mors-code fashion
to someone out of sight.

The family he never had,
he created in his mind.
From loneliness they protect him,
the voices never leave his
side.

Phone rings, the alienist answers.
I leave my notes to the side and
observe his movements.
For a moment
he turns towards me,
appearing emotionless,
then looks back.


Rain pouring on thirsty soil,
cats meowing free
outside the white-walled cages.
'The building (opposite this white hole we are in)
is it a new build?' he asked looking through the
window.

Flight of unlinked thoughts;
from electromagnetic fields
to dealthlessness.
No gun can **** him,
no family there for him.
The brother, he forgot
and no recollection of
the court order that put him
behind bars.

The TV box inside his head
always on, playing a movie on repeat.
A medicated, anhedonic protagonist
on a road of no return.
Dec 2018 · 544
The other side of silence
melinoe immortal Dec 2018
One's remembered self;
the clash within one's present
self.
Christmas mournings,
childhood memories
of ripped apart years.

Those life pages
full of thorns
that never seem
to burn.

Circulus vitiosus
linked mental inhibitions
inability to construct
current ability to destruct and reconstruct.


The unwritten soul letters
from the heart sent to the brain.
The thoughts that still wake you up
on days of heavy thunder and rain
inside your head.
They will never rest.

The days you hide from the sun's rays.
The days you walk into complete blackness
to the other side of silence
with the only compass your own will to heal.

Your own will to heal.
Aug 2018 · 2.3k
Gravity
melinoe immortal Aug 2018
I will edit my soul
with the colourless liquid
that escaped from the two overflooded doors
and stained page 255 on
the medical ethics section.

'Drop on the floor, drops.
Tear drops
never to return.'

A lullaby moaned
before hope runs out of
the small, plastic bottle.
melinoe immortal Jul 2018
Selene.

By the sea, I have been staring,
at your bright colours change.
Erythematous, murderous intentions of
a disease disseminating
on your surface.

The slow, penetrating anguish
tearing the guts,
a one-sided, disdained,
newborn sadness,
I am welcoming in my arms.

On the operating theatre of life
white and now dead moths,
stillborn butterflies
inside the flesh removed,
drowned themselves in a pool of blood.
They, an absurd joy
that never stood a chance
inside this cyanide prison.

Portals of loaned,
disillusioned happiness closed.
The liquid that raced turbulently
through my vessels, drained on a half-filled
with tears palette.

With menacing, impasto knife-like strokes
on the body
Morpheus painted the shadow-covered moon
with memories that refuse to be forgotten
from purulent, open wounds.
'Those worlds you will (never) see.
The people you will (never) meet' he said.

Soul chemicals eroding
the behemoth sky,
as the paint dries out.
Ashes of my Dreams (Not) Achieved,
astral remains;
everything I silently kept inside.
Jul 2018 · 3.2k
Lethe
melinoe immortal Jul 2018
Sunken eyes, broken thoughts,
air with difficulty enters the lungs.
Dry mouth, lacrimation of no purpose,
the pillow full of nails  she is resting upon.

The body, a ship stricken by a wave war.
Slow disintegration,
remains are battling the seven seas of sorrow.

Like a painting  uncovered,
black sheets cover the rays of the sun
from the soul.

Resident of a lucid dream,
mumbling to the wind that blows
regrets down to the river
between Hypnos and the Underworld,
to carry a message to the hearts
with locked doors.

A message of no words
but incoherent perceptions,
lost unknown connections
and strangled hopes.
Jul 2018 · 1.8k
Locked-In Syndrome
melinoe immortal Jul 2018
Pseudocoma state.
Mind, you receive
according to the EEG,
but the body in their presence
cannot respond.

Altered state of consciousness,
stroke of feelings,
permanent paralysis  of thought.
Vertical eye movements,
now they mean the same.
No difference between answering
yes and no.

There is something last to blink to you about ignorant world.
Whether the blinking will be up or down
nothing equals nothing to the infinite
in the present tense.

For all, a passage from light to the darkness
from here to gone.
There is no immortality,
just an ECG monitor that will indicate
’You may proceed to the morgue’.

Place your hands  on your faces
and rip out your fake eyes with force.
Save the matching crocodile tears
for one of your own.

With or without them,
your frivolous existences
blind and hypocrites to the core.

I refuse!
Till the end, I will not.
You are locked-out of my world.
Jul 2018 · 315
A-na(esthe)sia
melinoe immortal Jul 2018
No fentanyl, midazolam or propofol.
Operation: childhood destruction using
non- sterile gloves.
Removal of parts of the brain and heart,
septic nightmares infect the mind.
   The body shivers, loses control.
Gangrene of the soul.

Antiseptic, aromatic soap,
scraping the epidermal dirt.  
  Scratching so hard, unable
to get rid of the hurt.

Happiness decapitated,
enters the cemetery gates
pointing with her morphine-coated fingers
to her tomb.
Chronic torture and no remorse.
A pre-meditated ****** of dreams and hopes.
May 2018 · 752
Takotsubo Syndrome
melinoe immortal May 2018
Heart strings pulled apart one by one,
nails turning blue under black, velvet gloves.
The burned ashes scattered in the wind
over a turbulent sea,
and waves crash onto shore,
words fail to come out of the mouth;
lost in a forest of thoughts -
This is not adieu.
melinoe immortal Dec 2017
You colour the chest-implanted violin of life
with drops of  chronic
alkaline comfort.
You deposit in yearly doses
on the upper heart chambers.

You will be buried with her.
The book of souls deciphers
the chemicals were low,
your presence is unwelcomed in peoples' courts.

But  you have always been there
for her.

You are destroying her.
The blood violently regurgitates
back to the left and right cardiac chambers.
She wore that heart proudly in her chest.
She played the heart strings till her fingers
bled with blood.


But what worth do words have right now,
when the damage is really done?
No metallic stent can restore the pathways of the heart.
The violin strings break one by one.
Jul 2017 · 18.4k
Hooke's law
melinoe immortal Jul 2017
'Healer' time take thy poor, black sheep,
and stop it from wondering
in the dangerous corners
of the mind,
because heaven and hell collided
inside a body and in unity they came
in the presence of all those
who conspired to it.

From the frontal to the occipital lobe,
dark thoughts obstruct
the brain’s watershed regions
and thanatos they bring.
The soul cannot take this coffin
anymore.

The stone is too heavy to carry;
sliding down and pushing up,
every night the pushing starts,
for the dawn, her courage to crack.


It may be like Hooke's law they say,
but bodies break down,
when people apply the extra force
and so do the souls,
long before.
Jul 2017 · 891
Asteroid B216
melinoe immortal Jul 2017
You were a fool big girl..

you were a fool…

Return to the land of the the four-thorned rose… become, exist somewhere else, with that flower that has been pulled from the soil so violently.

Live on your own asteroid, and water that rose.

But this time make sure your star will never been seen by any human or artificial eye.
Jul 2017 · 1.6k
Soul voyager
melinoe immortal Jul 2017
Disappointment transformed into rage.
Rage transformed into tears
liquid forms of despair.
Body excreting pain
a failing healing process
acute or chronic series
of mourning events.


The soul full of nociceptors
soldiers of misfortune
firing against the invinsible enemy.

The wounds open, refusing to heal.
The years of not understanding,
misunderstandings, confusion, denial
and self-loathing.


Time is running out in her mind.

— The End —