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I fall down my throat
Into the last standing pillars
Of my body, that was a city
Atlantis and I, both sinking
I take all benevolent queen in me
Whisper wakefulness to my sleeping parts
Listen for the whirrs and chimes
Of my whole heart coming alive again
I can hear the lioness of my lungs chatting with the magpies
All the birds singing in harmony
The tree that grew from the apple seeds I swallowed
Refuses to drop its leaves, even as winter
Tries to choke this body
I am walking through gardens
All the beasts that used to gnaw at my bones while I slept
Nudge at my hands and lead me through this Eden
Like Atlantis, I find myself lost
Like Atlantis, I find no desire to return to the surface
All the birds singing in harmony
And happiness, in every step
  Nov 2017 Dark soul
Would you kindly
hug me tight
with your hands
around my neck?
Would you kindly spend the night
and comfort this nervous wreck?

Could you show me a smile
while you tell me that I'm trash
Could you insult my lifestyle
without even batting an eyelash

Should you care about garbage like me
your tastes must be perverted
Should I be allowed to feel this happy
honestly, I'm uncertain.

I need you to use your claws
to draw out the blood from my skin
I need you to break through the walls
I built to hide my true self within

I need you to split me open and dig inside
to grasp at my heart if you can
I need you to know the thoughts that I hide
and love the person I really am
Dark soul Nov 2017
What if the dreams are a reality of afterlife ?
A dream inspired thought .
Dark soul Jun 2017
Act like you trust people
But do not .
Dark soul Jan 2017
There lies the truth between the lines
or maybe they are lies
Maybe you found them
or maybe i made them find you
Its like an awakening at times
all the emotions unitise
Get high on the sprinklers of deceit which i spell on you
while i weave your reality like a web
the only way out is - that you cannot.
  Dec 2016 Dark soul
my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.
© copyright

NOTE: i've noticed people sharing this to other sites without having spoken to me about it beforehand, I do not give permission for this and all poems are copyright, keep this in mind.

my mother never actually said this to me, but i figure i'll probably end up saying it one day if i have children.

it's pessimistic yes, but i know there are exceptions. please don't take to heart. it's more a criticism of myself than all poets. :)
Dark soul Oct 2016
Born as a forest
overwhelmed by trees
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