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dread Jan 18
whatever you wanted to call me,

sometimes it made me mad,
oftentimes it made me sad,

I'm not mad, I'm not sad,
I'm all around dead.

I didn't need your reminders to remember that I was bad,
I didn't need your kindness to still give you my hand.

Didn't need to call me son, to know you were dad,
Didn't need you to say you wanted me gone, because you were mom.

Oftentimes I wonder if it's me that doesn't understand,
sometimes I say, who will understand.

What if it were me,
that was best for the story,

I guess, I guess what it is that I've had.
dread Jan 15
Let them read, past the wind,
have them say what we've written,
in their mind, in this time,
in the midst of us being


The night is fine
but you
are
divine, dripping rain of the goddess
of outside, of my life,
my wine.

Crestfallen, brokenhearted,
until
but you
became my line, my reason to get started,
my blood.

Consummate, assimilate,
become one, because you,
are
the star that rose up, at dawn,
my flower,
my vine.

Let them read, past the wind,
have them say what we've written,
in their mind, in this time,
in the midst of we drinking
of our goblet, divine,
throughout all time.
dread Jan 15
Push, bring in the light,
let ellipses fight

such a daring battle, to choose,
pleasure, or the night

the shield or the knight,
the steed or its might

whispering or shouting,
talking or jousting

grass or the darkness,
black air, or a full moonlight

passing you by, or drowning
in the midst of it.
dread Jan 14
my armor of life

is purely of light

I could hold her, before she bestows

eternity with beauty, merely by flight,

I've cast eyes on a curse,

i'm trembling unrehearsed,

this might be the beginning of the worst

spare me, call the hearse, tell them I'm not answering,

he might have truly succumbed to the words.
dread Jan 8
The butterfly with knives for wings,
she stings far more than she sings,
and her colours are pronounced because she's chosen to never hide.

A yellow stem, birthing her blend to the sunshine,
lively and fiery, an embattlement of emotions and potions,
the soul of a bird who no longer gives way to commotions.

Behind her, are her eyes, because that presence never hides,
fading like before, are only the flowers and green vines,
moving perpetually forward, her fury is now kind.

Give them peace, write them lines,
float amongst the beasts, let death be an unthought of rind,

Let wings flutter, be in who the ever-working bees confide.
dread Jan 5
cuz I got you in my pocket and I'm not gonna say,
that if I put you in a locket my heart wont stay,

so give me that shine, take the day away,
cuz baby all i do is pray,

oh my darlin, I swear that I'd never say,
go ahead and stay away, cuz I'll give you my heart,
and you can lock it away, just don't make me pray.
dread Jan 5
sing, song, fall along,
the edge of the sword,
or the world, perhaps because you are bored.
Clanging, banging, the soul till it's torn.

I am not my best, because you are abhorred,
your name's become a mist,
where it was as real as a sword.
Panging, slanging, words until I'm torn.

Eyes, curse, look at the floorboards,
about her face, a cigarette, the roses petals burn,
call them shadows, they are her aura,
they are doors.

On all fours, seeking your mouth,
like an insect crawling on the floor,
I am sick with, a thing I was equipped with,
a heart, fallen like a star, claiming it's only witness.
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