Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
absinthe Aug 2016
let me pick your brain
show me your grey
maybe then i’ll do the same

****** me with the gin
you hide behind your grin
maybe then you’ll have me

overwhelmed
by the beauty in your ugly
oh, i thirst for a taste of truth
lies burden your chest, whet
my flesh, maim my chained head

see your reflection?
how your ugly makes you lovely

pound me down on my knees
beat me, ravage me, unleash
the savage you’d meeked

loosen me, wear me thin
widen my heartless mind
strong-arming might make me feel

make me your canvas
paint me with blood-red,
master

me,
shatter my heart to pieces
it makes masterpieces better, i’m

overwhelmed
by the beauty in your ugly
oh, i thirst for a taste of you
why burden your chest when
i beg, thrive on unrest

see your reflection?
how i’m what makes you lovely
absinthe Aug 2016
******* mothers
embraced  us.

we were conceived
from specimens--
one mr
one mrs--
presumably
intelligent.

misconceptions
mask reality.

we exist...

if for nothing
but to compete
in a sick game
of
who will withstand
the most pain

if for no
objective
other
than to
reinforce
to the collective
that if nothing,
we are comprised
of nothing

but
sad

selfish

backstabbing  

failures.
absinthe Jul 2016
behold
the shackles
my knuckles
fiend for.

ghosts i see
inhale me deep
they never let me
go to sleep

still im stealing--i'm a thief
the beast feasting
between my thighs
muffles my cries.

as it tells tales,
juvenile

wholesome before
fearful, seldom
moving forward

my bedspread
kicks me to couches
on grounds of love
that splinter
like my bored head,
backwards

still they’re stealing
myself from me
demons veiled, they're
feeding my lies
they make me vile

and years go by
i’m alive
fearful before
fearless--now i
can reign pawns

lo and
behold
the muzzles
my morals
adorn.

thoughts...
they seethe

put me at ease,
i never let them
go of me.
no one's stealing
my sins from me

eerie cries call
as moonshine dies
(they)
bring me to life
and for moments
juvenile

i'm numb no more,
fearsome
of none
but the morn

lo and
behold
the shackles my knuckles
fiend for

ghosts
i see
inhale me deep
they

never let me
never let me
never let me go
                       to
                       sleep.
absinthe Jun 2016
it's those
who feel
the need to help you
the most
who don't feel.
it's they
who need
(your) help
the most

i am they
and i don't feel
but still i hear
their
   ah...
of relief

again
i am
    

     empty

and how i wish
i could learn
how to breathe
if once
one sigh
of relief

- end
absinthe Jun 2016
a son of adam
disguised as satan
was the wise man
who once advised me
when i asked him
i'm frightened, see,
i see demons nightly
i'm so scared
of the monsters when
they come to haunt me.
aren't you relating to
what you hear from me?
is there a god above us, absinthe?
yes
is he who made the sun, and
does he protect believers?
yes
so when the daytime leaves us
does he abandon children
because his sun is sleeping?
no

but what about us daughters,
Father
because the sun seems partial
to the Sons of Adam
absinthe Jun 2016
i have only
one lonely
component
of moments
altogether, they make the misnomer
we all **** every morning,
every time we call it
time

i’m in bed, thinking
of my child--
past,
my mistress--
future,
and my husband--
present.

do i manifest it
in the most innocent victims
in my kin, keeping
their necks bent backwards,
twisted
twenty-four, seven
for no reason other
than my (sub?)conscious,
its viciousness i keep
feeding, nursing it
with ****** breastmilk
   i keep reminiscing and reliving
   my initiation moments
   ago, when she forced my transition
   from visions of halos
   visible in the distance
   to a new life witnessed
   from a higher elevation measured
   in mere feet, in measly inches
   all its symptoms
   hosting the syndrome
   we selfishly love scapegoating
   as the capital of sweden

or do i invest it in secret
in a potential haven
its instantaneous
gratification
purposely overlooking
my infernal husband
   i see him, vivid
   his eyes gleaming, livid
   while he's smiling, living
   in pure bliss, the image
   of him standing
   in the background
   oxymoronically
   observing
   with a rigid south
   that defies physics
   and hails northbound
   like my eyes when they widen
   allowing my peripheries
   to admit the bigger picture
   and finally i get it

or do i intertwine
his fingers with mine
give in and follow through
with vows
so
black
i had to contrast them with white
   by draping
   over my shoulders what i'd only seen before when
   time, my fashionably late ******
   snuck into my room and ravaged innocence
   it was mariana trench grim
   even the moon couldn't take it
   watching her stab
   the white sheets,
   in blackness
   hearing my eerie screams
   as my innards leave me
   and suddenly i embrace
   the potent beauty of a venomous snake
   the gleaming power that hate plagues
   so together we'd watch them bleed red
   sitting. but that was moments past
   now i carry the horrid legacy
   of mastered maleficence
   how to manipulate it
   beneath a veil that hates evil
   and it still tempts me...

that's why i did it
wore white and feigned interest
to distract the morbid being
hiding deep within, rotting, festering
i put it all together when i broke
at the hands of a monster
who created a fraternal clone
by instigating an innocent sadist
a different species
i can drain us all, together
in a brutal whirlwind
of failing, of indecision

if only
the moon had made it
if only the sun had listened
and rescued me
instead of insisting
that shining on time
was out of style
but its prerequisite
was no compromise
instead it trapped me
in a sinister dungeon  
because taking orders
from a subordinate
is a demeaning price
higher than
the cheap little girl
bleeding, crying
she carries no significance
she's falling behind
just like the future
of an otherwise worthy existence
just like my mistress --
future
my husband--
present
and my child --
   passed
now
nothing
matters.
it's only
a matter
of time
until we all die

after all,
we had it
all, stolen
or otherwise
yet instead,
we spent
our whole lives
torturing each other
and killing time.

- end
Next page