Pumpkin spice and nothing nice,
Donald Trump lost his mind.

Pumpkin Donny Donald Trump
thought he could have his pumpkin
pie and eat it too.

I guess he didn't realize his brain
rotted years ago and it yeeted
itself out leaving him with
a 72 IQ.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Everything changed but I remain unchanged.

Time forgot about me, as I walk
the night burning with desire.

Like a flame to a moth my energy
draws you in, for a quick bite.

As the dark fades I stalk
the night, underneath the clouds
and street lights I crawl forth
from the shadows.

As I slowly crawl back into the dark
dampness of my crypt, I slip into
the grave.

Goodnight, sleep tight don't let
the vampires bite. If they do just
take your shoes and run run run...

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Eternity stretching out in front
of me.

The rose's dead a long time ago,
they lie in piles of dried petals.

As the brick and mortar crack
and crumble I remain untouched.

Cold bone underneath the stone,
ghosts linger on memories of the
living.

Lie me down on a bed of rose's
as I remain unchanged, cry me
a river and let me float
down the sorrowful tears
of my memories.

Eternal nights carry me,
blood bindes me to this life.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Body dysphoria is like
having a monster as a reflection.

My mirror self is distorted
alien and monstrous.

I don’t see myself in reality
instead my mind sees static
confusion and an oddity.

Imagine seeing a bumpy lumpy
mass of hair and fingernails
with deeply wrinkled skin
everytime you look in the mirror.

That’s what I see.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I have gazed upon the softest petals
deeper than the night, its perfume
lingers on my mind.

Of the greenest stem and leafs of
heaven's groves, a bud like no other
in black velvet under cover,
for the others are painted red.

Ode to my black rose, it grows
in the deepest depth of my heart.

This thorn of beauty and
night is plotted in rows
to grow my poetic design.

I hope my black rose brings
you peace and comfort, and
reminds you beauty is in
the design.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Poetry reveals my true self.

Upon the pressure of my pen
I become a small galaxy of
experiences, the vastness of me
expands as far as the imagination
can stretch my existence.

Line by line, I slowly claim
as the words become a latter
helping me to design my tapestry
of poetry.

I have and will touch everything;
for we are of many strings
vibrating through the vail
of star dust.

Upon the setting sun I burst forth
inspired by the shadows and deepening darkness.
My mind takes flight with
the slowly fading light as I become
a flame that lights up the night.

The vail is lifted and I am released
upon the darkness that is my poetic
desire, and the night is my lover.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the rising of a blood red moon,
a cold chill is in the air.
I am standing in front of a large
window on the top floor of a hotel.

As I stair out into the darkness
I glance at the window and the
reflection shows a man tall
dark and pale wearing a suit
and tie with red blazing eyes
is seated on the couch.

The man looks like a flame reflecting
light from the reddish glow of the
moon as he rises and approaches
from behind, I can feel his energy.

Its a push to my senses and a shove
to my mind, telling me to run.

As I begin to panic I quickly turn
around to face him, but nothing is
there.

I turn back to face the window and
he's standing next to my reflection.
With his sapphire gaze he disappeared in a foggy red haze.

The blood red moon from my
imagination brought me a dream,
a lucid trip through the
Twilight zone.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton