Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Dec 2014
Margaret Austin Go
Don't lock the doors my child
nor the windows tonight
I like to watch you sleep
Drown you deep
Under your bed,
my private revelry
your Tears and Fears,
I wear as jewelry
Your angel is dead
In your head,
I pull the strings that make you cry
make you scream 'till your mouth runs dry
Smother your lips with my lies
Creating a wound
To feed the flies
I am your beautiful monster
creeping into your skin
in your slumber
I'll keep you safe in this nightmare.



-Your Angel Is Dead, Margaret Austin Go
 Dec 2014
niamh
Thoughts and emotions
Are running high.
So won't someone please
Tell me why
I can't write down
In any way, the things
I really want to say??
Is this what they call
Writer's block?
What a total
Pile of ****!!
Frustration has me
Pulling my hair!
No inspiration
From anywhere!!!!
Had a glass too many
So can't even think!
**** it!
I'll just have another drink
Sorry about the cursing! Total writer's block - really ******* me off!!!!
Tell
              Me
                           Your
                                               Dreams
copyright Chris Smith 2010
 Dec 2014
bones
Please will
you pull
all my poems
apart
whichever way
you think
is best
I don't care
if you pull
at them gently
or hard
I just
want to be
undressed
 Dec 2014
Haydn Swan
The great bird is conceived in a glistening eye
a mythical wonder waiting to be formed
coiled in patience under palest skin
waiting to unfurl its majestic wings
a cold steel blade unlocks its cage
blood must flow to bring it life
its freedom found in fragmented bone
the bars that block its sight are pulled back
hands reach into the great cavern
grasping the wings to set them free
at last in splendour and magnificent awe
the blood eagle is seen to take flight and soar
The blood eagle was a mythical and particularly gruesome form of execution by the ancient Vikings.  It involved carving the shape of an Eagle into the victims back, exposing the spine and ribs,  the ribs would then be severed from the spine and bent to each side and the executioner would then reach into the back and pull out the victims lungs and place them in such a way that they would resemble the furled wings of a great bird.
 Dec 2014
Poetic T
You don't see me
"Self
"Harm"
I'm cutting  
"From"
"The"
"Inside"
I don't bleed out,
I bleed within,
Scars never seen
But the pain is always real,
And felt **everyday..
 Dec 2014
MisspellingLife
the sky fell
and the atrocious tendencies
of this world came to me in a dream
why is cruelty so innate?
 Dec 2014
JWolfeB
We are birds, plucking each others feathers
Complaining about reasons we can't fly
Tearing each part of each other off
Allowing us to come together as equals
Naked, afraid, and without hope
 Dec 2014
Poetic T
The acrid smell of darkness
"Permeates me"
I am surrounded by the skies
Of hell fire,
Brimstone,
Sulphuric,
Odours
Breathed as if air
Burning with each inhale,
This is a place of eternal penance
Why do I sit on a thrown of spines
Those around grovel
Hungry as if to ******* milk,
I look down, hot coals are under foot
My thrown room blacker than sin,
I am jested towards the window,
Torture,
Screams,
Souls
Bound to instruments, some scream in
Redemption, why'll others ask for more,
Broken, crazy lost souls that once
Screamed as the souls now bound to
"Smouldering coals"
I glance as heavy doors open,
Skin,
Bone,
Muscles
Entwined with black stitch
No words permitted,
As stich tightly woven
Upon blooded lips
I felt enticed at her vulgerness
She approached as if to touch my Hand, I
Repelled,
Declined,
Opposed
Her advances, I cut in to her muscle
she moaned as if ecstasy,
As black droplets burnt upon the floor
"She again ushered towards my hand"
I let her grip as she cut the
Stitches
From her bleeding lips,
"I smelt her breath"
A thousand souls decaying within her,
Breath
Exhaled,  
Putrid,
Odour that was irresistible,
Lips meet, flesh burnt and the
Mists of what was clarity was ushered away,
My reaper of souls beauty of the underworld
I tasted with that kiss corruption, hatred
"He who shall never be named"
"At his tricks once again"
"I sit o my throne of spines"
My horns ignite once more
The light that shined briefly now
Extinguished,
Smothered,
Obsolete
Feelings from a place one stood upon,
"I am that which others need to fear"
As all will pay for this
"Moment of Clarity"  
As I engulf souls, redemption
Is for above, below there is just **hatred and misery
Oh how fools can pity me
For they can not know
Of into which sadness I flee
Of those dark shadows I go

If they dare, sought me out
They know not what they find
From the terror of midnights' shout
Buried forever within insanitys' mind

I will take to the grave my sorrow
Even in Death I am never free
Condemned to rot in somewhere hollow
Where the fools can pity me
Copyright Chris Smith 2014
 Dec 2014
Phantom Byron Lorde
Cracked kisses
On blistered lips
Inferno desires

Scorched love
Flames of lust
Funeral pyres

Swollen dreams
Inside ignited minds
Nightmares burn
Next page