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  Nov 2018 Anthony Perry
Eve Stumpges
Blood is red,
Bruises are blue.
Air is my lifeline,
And so
are you.
Just so we all know I am not currently in an abusive relationship thankfully :)
Anthony Perry Nov 2018
Depression is a kind of home for me. Winter is the season I come home.
©anthonyasylum
I've been sitting on this for a couple years now because I don't like writing short/phrasing poems especially because it's just not my style. I couldn't fit it into any poem or create anything around it and with December coming soon, I figured I might as well post it as it is.
Anthony Perry Jul 2018
There is something violent about how I see the skin on your body
Its so rich and smooth, almost decadent and unlike you

This observation turns into a premeditation when you touch my cheek
Its almost like i can feel the heat melting off your bones

As I laid you down and slipped a knife underneath your sternum
You whispered something hidden in painful tones like a sharp breath piercing the guttural moans

But I dont need to hear words to know the searing desire steaming from your guts as I replaced them with hot stones

The blood on your finger tips remind me of fresh water on leaves after a storm and your severed head looks like its been through famine, disease, and a damaged city plagued and war torn

Yet there is still beauty in the decayed decadence that is your mutilated corpse

The moonlight drowns in the canal of blood begging for remorse while the insects march and sing a song of things that can only get worse
©anthonyasylum
This is a poem about the need for closeness between two people
Anthony Perry Apr 2018
Lay down this night
Try not to fight
Night terrors shepherd a blighted terror insight

Get through this flashing fright and wake up with another mental lashing akin to febral crashing

Every kid's born with a light
And as kid the dreams gripped mine tight

Eye lids fall to sleep
Fadeing into shades blacker than black
Seamlessly brought back
Seeing the dark move, coming closer to kiss my cheek
Choking on fear I couldn't get out a peep
Eye lids peeled and tacked on the tourtures rack

Afraid to see my family die I'd cover my face with invisible hands
So much **** inside my brain
I'm forced to watch as my sister's would fall and smear wherever it lands

How can a kid see so much when he sleeps?

Waking up afraid I would go to school unaware it was real life
Feeling dissolved, broken, school was like chopping at a tree with a dull knife

Live my day and proceed to lay my head down
Pillows and blankets comfort but cannot support the torture when my heads bound
Tears in the eyes knowing the nightmares are always around
knowing I'm not crazy as I feel voices with no sound

At some point I accepted this is how I am

Night after night, horrid beings and terrible stories unfolded like the buckled spine that's scraped into a body bag after singing forty storeys to the ground
©anthonyasylum
  Apr 2018 Anthony Perry
Jules M
With the violent jerking,
And battering of my heart,
And my self-image,
I have deteriorated.
I don't want to look at myself for a second longer than it takes
To put on my face in the morning,
Because if I do,
I will begin to poke and **** at my own flesh,
Feeling as if I am going to upchuck every calorie I have consumed
In the 15 years, and 120 days of my life.
If I look at myself long enough,
I am repulsed,
And my day from that point on will be violently,
Disruptively disordered.
Everything I am forced to consume,
Because of the need to hide my disastrous disorder,
Will become disgusting, half-digested
*****.
And rottingly,
I will feel pure,
And vile,
All at the same time.
Anthony Perry Apr 2018
There is no escape from yourself once you turn seven shades of blue

You can scream at death and brush away the leaves but your grave will always have a body that decieves even after being filled with sawdust and glue

Bound to anger and rebellion you struggled to let anyone in
Bindings so tight, fingers turned black like that night
Screaming, crying, attempted flailing
You tried so hard to not give up the fight
You succumbed to the blight

Your mom couldn't even recognize the cold leather bound over these bones that are told to be you
Malnutrition claimed stake to the body
Amphetamines numbed the mind and caused leishons to start rotting

No escape in death
No escaping breath
Hollowed head from a chest filled with ****

Your life shrunk, grew diseased and immature
Beaten senseless and tied to the headboard
Did you suffer? No one can say for sure

Buried with little more than the foegiviness of a closed casket and the permanantness of an abused life
The only memento you'll carry on is the form fitted ligature marks and consciousness derived of strife
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