Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Anthony Perry Oct 2016
Crawling around with drugs in the veins

             leaving behind trails of rust from body braces and chains

Scratching with cracked nails on concrete floors
               Slipping on fresh sores while pulling forward towards unopened wooden doors

         Fists launch against the borders like a barrage of mortars pounding out the corners
                Abused and cold on the floor like nothing more of than a broken stillborn while thunder cracks just feet away.

      A silhouette of a man paces around the room with nothing to say

                 swatting something out of his way and when the thunder ceases to play

           The silhouette stops, it begins to whisper and sway.
  Aug 2016 Anthony Perry
Viseract
Cold steel chains
Constricting pain
Burning sensations
Sanity slain

Heavy weight
Against my skin
Unforgiving
Relentless head-spin

Dry bloodstains
A malicious mark
Guilty as charged
*Repeat, restart
Anthony Perry Apr 2016
An anxiety attack holds the body pressed against a table, unable to even struggle as the ropes pull and fold the layers of your mind like a peeling lable

Cloth begins to cover the exposed skin, over a layer of sweat that starts soaking in, panicked and encased in claustrophobia with weaning breaths that sound out a hallowed hymn

Skin pulled tight along the muscles, layers ripping across the joints like papyrus separating blood vessels, body pressed so tight that straight knees crack with the buckles

Unable to evade the stout flame hooking into the small of your back flaring up to the ceiling charring the body black, its a panic attack that has you trapped

Mummified and cremated without a hope of escape while motivation lays in ashes around the structure left behind in the agony of a triggered perception

All without the grace of an execution outside of this institution, locked away from happy thoughts and depression, the trauma stops only when it waits to feed on the negative pollution.
  Apr 2016 Anthony Perry
Monica
Becoming who you are
Is not an easy feat.

You have to shed the skin
Of many failed versions.
Prototypes are stowed away,
Blueprints shredded.

Which laugh works?
Is this personality too loud?
Will I be a loser if I don’t go to that party?
Or to that event?
Should I modulate my voice?
Am I too much of a nerd?
Am I not enough of a nerd?
Do these glasses work with my face?
Do these clothes work for my body?

Over and over,
The plans change,
And you change,
And you try to find the best
Version of yourself.
And you wonder why
There’s more than one
To begin with.

You wonder what happened,
To the innocent kid
Who thought her elementary school
Friends would always be there,
And who thought she could do anything.

You look back on yourself
As an athlete.
You look back on yourself
As a writer.
And you wonder why
You became this person
Who will just settle
To get by in life.

You wonder why
You’re constantly at
The drawing board,
Why the things you really
Want to do in life
Are impractical,
And why the things
You’re going to do are
Only semi appealing.

How did you get
****** into this society,
And how did you become this

Automaton with no autonomy?

Why can’t you decide
What’s best for you
Without being wracked with
Guilt?

Looks like you need to be
Reprogrammed  
So we’ll scrap this model
And get back to you
With a new one.

Try not to break it.
Anthony Perry Mar 2016
Creatures crawl from under the roots of trees and bugs scatter from the pockets of the lost to the cadence of sprinkling rain

Silence in the woods of missused life brings out the sounds of wind screaming past the tightened ropes and rusted knives

Those who walk through the aokigahara forest hear a symphony of life that persists through the maimed, a festival of tents and people strung up like decorations as if it was meant for a parade

Nature reclaimed the unused death of unwanted bodies and the rain drained flesh from bones, simulated hell and suicide is what's found soon after passing the warning signs in red and white marked zones.
  Mar 2016 Anthony Perry
Little Bear
Always..
it's always going to be my fault

No matter what you did or what you said
it will be my fault

Even the lies you tell
will be my fault

The love you gave and the love you lost
will be my fault

The pain you feel and the tears you shed
will be my fault

The agony and the injustice of it all
will be my fault

And the punches I took and the bitter words you spat
will be my fault

The obsessive
possessive
jealous
rage
you poured upon me
will be my fault

The others you slept with and threw in my face
will be my fault

The secret child you made
will be my fault

and so I left you

that will not be my fault

that would be yours.
Next page