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 Dec 2014
WickedHope
I'm not going to beg you to stay
I'm not going to sob please don't go
I'm not going to say you're too young
I'm not going to pretend it can all just be fixed

But I want you to know
I'll miss you everyday, like I already do
I'll pray for you everyday, like I already do
Some near four months ago now, when I joined this site
          you were my first like and follow
          you made me want to write, you still do

You are a comfort and an anchor
I only wish I could be the same for you
You are like my brother, but not, because you'd never hurt me
You make me feel like smiling and
          I wish I could show you my smile, give you my laugh
          give you back all the things you've given me

Late August this guy who called himself Magicath started following me
          and I thought it was the greatest thing ever
But what was greater was getting to know the Playlist Of Souls
          behind the screen name

Andy, I'm not going to ask you to stay for me, because no one's
          been able to do that before,
          never mind like this
But for you to stay
          is my own tearful, secret wish

~"g"
I love you, darling.
Always.
- - -
Challenge by Demonized Angels. #thisisforandy #anewreligion
He's really bad, guys.
- - -
# cancer # hope # always # missyou
 Dec 2014
Jared San Miguel
Life is scary. You know?

Not the kind of scary you get from horror movies or a haunted house.
Not the kind of scary like when you think you forgot your keys locked in the car.
Not the kind of scary like when you think one of your friends finally decided to leave this world for good.
Not the kind of scary that is sharp needle point followed by the release of realization.

No.
Life is not that kind of scary.

It's the kind of scary that follows you closely.
It's the kind of scary that shakes you awake at night just to let you stare back at its void.
It's the kind of scary that sits on your shoulder and taunts you for every waking second that it can take you when it pleases.
It's the kind of scary that pulls your blood from your arteries.
It's the kind of scary that revels in the sight of your tears.

It's the kind of scary that lingers, persists, torments, and never, ever leaves.
Her nails digging into the tree,
her legs opened wide.
He sunk deep within,
filling ever inch inside.
Mating calls meshing,
moans and grunts rent the air.
He begins to move faster,
while pulling on her hair.

I can't believe he's this deep inside me,
It's so **** heavenly,
I burst out with a primal scream.
It's like a fantasy, I'm living out my dream,
All those ****** novels I read,
Pictured through my mind,
He pulled my hair even harder,
I came almost instantaneously


Her essence flowed freely,
Surrounding him in liquid heat.
His thrusting became faster,
and the pleasure was Oh so sweet.
Hard as a rock,
one more pounding ******.
He sank into her deeply,
and explodes in a rush.

I could feel his hot seed,
Filling up inside me.
The exquisite pleasure almost
made me come once more,
He leaned his entire weight into me,
His breath on my neck
was felt to my core,
I realized I never asked his name
Yet, he'd pleasured me like never before.


"I have seen you from afar, to shy to say a word.
Still, I know your name not and feel kind of absurd."
"I have seen you looking
and have noticed you too,
I wanted you for awhile,
and didn't know what to do."
He kissed her then,
softly upon her lips.
Holding her against the tree,
still joined at the hips.

I drip as I grip onto your hips,
while I nurture your nectar and sip
Your ****** has me going crazy,
'cause I'm craving to be lazy
and lay on my back while you ride
me, but I think I might have died
This pleasure makes me feel like Heaven,
and I won the jackpot like 7-7-7
Your depths are coming down upon me,
while I sew some of my sticky seed
right into your box, with me begging,
"Baby, I swear I'm gonna make you mine,
'cause you have me feeling so sublime."



            *~To Be Continued~
 Dec 2014
Mirlotta
The woman holds a letter
crumpled and crumbling at the tip like insanity taking its first few licks at calm
and liking it
brushing black-inked words beneath her fingers
like she's contemplating some black haired deed
like anger
or hate
or ******
and maybe she is.

The woman lifts her hands unto the skies
crying for help from a darkness that won't help her at all
but she wants it
banishing her innocence and taking up home
in the old, abandoned shack of spite and malice
wanting blood
wanting love
wanting power
but not just for her.

The woman meets her husband
taunting and teasing and twisting his words into a sadistic mockery of what they were
and he believes her
with a slap across morality he agrees with her
takes her outstretched hand to show that
jealousy is married
determination binds
it was his idea first
and weakness is sin.

The woman turns and faints
blanching so white it's like the evil wasn't ever there
it's hiding
waiting, longing to consume her whole
she'd thought she'd washed away the deed
with just
a little
spot of
water.

The woman enters the banquet hall
hanging off her husband's arm like the weight of the crime that holds her down
she's shaking
trying to hurl off all the lonely isolation
as her husband lo and talks to ghosts
and kills
not just
men but
her as well.

The woman walks and talks asleep
scratches skin and tries to scrub away the sticking-plaster guilt
but still it stays
forces of darkness she invited
staying long past their welcome and
not just
eating all
the food
but her as well.

The woman recognises blood
splattering the deceased's names across her arms in swirling crimson lines like marker pen
that won't wash off
maybe she'd be better off dead than praying
wishing she could drown her err
in just
a little
spot of
water.
i stare outside my bedroom window
12:42am
wondering where my soul has gone,
my personality,
my hope.
instead of organs I carry inside me burdens of ex lovers, of mistakes, of abuse,
i remember when I use to shine the brightest.
it is so hard to see when you are blinded amidst tear gas
people pushing and shoving
black holes for eyes, no hearts in sight
i wish to one day repair them.
i wish one day to repair myself
it seems to be an impossible task
a momentary relapse of heart ache, of bleeding arms and bleeding legs
a momentary relapse of euphoria and then down again we go
it hurts when all you can do is sit around and wait for someone to clean the wounds just to tear them open with their teeth once again.

dad, did you do it again?
slide in your poison-
did you think you could ever own me?
mom, did you do it again?
pump your fears, your dreams, your failures into my blood, my soul, my slow beating heart?

i can't seem to go on anymore.

how am I suppose to love when the birthmarks on my arms are really scars,
when the holes in my chest are past heart breaks,
sleep breaks, smoke breaks, coke brakes, **** brakes
how am I suppose to love?
the snow covers an icy cold blanket around my mind,
freezing all the bad and good thoughts
and suddenly everything goes black.

-where am i?

conceptcollection
The only thing that could satisfy me is your blood.
I want your blood! Because that is all I haven’t lost.
You think your time has come? Well it is far too late!
You were to die sooner, but I was forced to wait.
Your tears are not satisfying, nor is your scream.
Your blood is all that will satisfy my wicked dream
Payback will bite and this time you won’t break free
For this was the last time I let you hurt me.
Clashing fangs, broken skin. The red liquid that pours from your veins.
I can’t wait to stare as all of it drains.
I want blood! Your blood! Because that is all I haven’t lost.
I want to stain the walls with my revenge
Paint the world in your beautiful crimson
 Dec 2014
Krusty Aranda
And there she is. The reason for this altar. Decorating it just like Jesus in his cross. Her eyes open, looking down on me in an empty stare. Her body naked, clean, and pure, posing in front of a glowing, golden ring hanging from the ceiling. It is decorated with prayers, written in an ancient, secret, almost demonic, language. She is motionless, voiceless, lifeless.


   She was playing a part in the latest short film from a famed, young director. Her part was that of a shy, frightened girl in an abusive relationship, who wanted to end it before he ended her. In the script was written that she'd die by his hand. A passional crime comitted while she slept. Her life ended by a knife, still sticking out of the back of her lifeless body when it was found by her, now terrified, roommate.
   She had had a few other acting roles before this one, but this was the one that could launch her career. Sadly it would never come to be.
   When the time came to film the "discovery of the body" scene, the cast wasn't so sure about the story ending with the death of the protagonist. They felt it was too extreme for the message they were trying to share. They talked to the director, trying to change the death of the girl into nothing more than a violent fight between the couple. After much thought, the director agrees to change the script.
   But no one can change the script of fate.
   Once the script was re-written, ready to be filmed, the whole cast was called in to do so, but something was amiss. The lead actress hadn't come. Her answering machine had over 78 unheard messages. Her inbox full of unread e-mails titled Where are you?!.

  
   No one would know anything about her again. No one but me.
 Dec 2014
Silence Screamz
Breathless transition
between life and death
Soul floating above
No, STOP!!
I am not done living
Point of no return
Seeing the light
Pulls you up
Cold chills
Not going
Soul returns
Alive again
In between
 Dec 2014
Joseph Schneider
Our earth has turned
Our lives are torn
We are able to see light no more
If only for a second we shine bright
We are reminded of our destiny
That of which is death
We strive to survive
We strive to stay alive
Being surrounded with demons of flesh and bone
Demons who are torn
Tattered
Look defeated but are actually reborn
Reborn through blistering scorn they rise
Their numbers are growing
We do nothing for god is showing
Showing his hatred for our kind
Showing his secret and sacred mind
We scream
We cry
For he gives no sympathy
We scream
We die
For he gives no sympathy
They feast off our loved one's limb by limb
We hear their screams as he dies
As she dies
No goodbyes
Just demise
Torn eyes
Black skies
Reaching at us from above tearing our hope from our chest
Our dreams as we rest
Our lives as we suppress
Suppress who we once were
For that is no more
Only for so long can we hide our screams
We will be found
We will be desecrated
Piece by piece
Our mothers torn and brothers death through scorn
Our wives see blood and flesh before being reborn
Now one of them they fight it but only postpone
Postpone the inevitable
The inevitability of turning
Turning from who you once were to a demon
Your birthdays
Weddings
Memories become waist
As you see through the devils eyes you hunt to feast
Inoperational your emotions become
Through the eyes of evil you become ****
No way out
Our end has begun
Our god has given up
On our petty existence we call success
Given up on the killing
The thievery
The ****
The pedophiles
This is why we die
This is why black takes our sky
Why evil is now his ally
Why we are ripped apart before we depart into hell
We become the hatred we once rebelled
The hatred we once repelled
Your children ask you why
Ask you why we have to die
You look into their eyes knowing they will once too be deleted
Deleted from existence
The tattered flesh and blood is insistence
Insistence of his wrath
While we beg to his knees
He returns to his kin with this disease
This plague
This is why we hide
The conquering he takes with pride
Vague emotions to hell we ride
This rapture has become our end
This rapture has become our end


-Joseph B Schneider
© Joseph B Schneider. All rights reserved
 Dec 2014
PrttyBrd
I awoke in a dream
Surrounded by a bilious familiarity
Angry shades of the drying blood of hope
Caked over venomous fangs of discontent
Stagnant shadows of effluvium
Emanate from the molten flesh
Of this creature I seem to know

But how, how do i know this putrid soul
This being, born of irascible acrimony
Seething breaths sear my senses
As I feel the pounding heart
Scream within it's chest
Aflame with the atrocities it has incited

Yet, in it's gentle eyes there is no malice
There is only the reflection of an angel
Gossamer vestments blow in the stillness
So effulgent in the darkness
Again, familiar and uncomfortable
It's eyes bore into mine that reflection of heaven

I could not see myself in those eyes
That gaze seemed to hypnotize in its polarity
As I floated unseen, I looked at this being
Seething miasmata while reflecting a seraph
Acidic tears of truth fell from within my poisoned soul
As the creature and the reflection merged in the bluest flame

And transformed my spirit into flesh
I am both the reflection and the being
Living the anguish of the truth of what I am
Fighting every  moment to be less than and more than
Pretending that I do not embody the dichotomy of bile and bliss
Seraph and succubus
The truth and the lie
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