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Smooth porcelain skin
lungs, a vibrant pinkish hue
The crux of the problem
enamored by the image of her
indifferent to the soul of her
unflinching in his deconstruction of her
a terminal case
without restrict
he breathes in crisp tainted air
exhaling in a roar of satisfaction
this poem was inspired by NBC Hannibal
He is beyond intimate
With the texture of fresh human meats
How it feels
How it slaughters
How it stretches against his sharp blade
A godlike penchant
For the curves of red blood cells
And the metallic taste of crimson spray
And now
As he takes your doe-eyed life
And wears your dying heart on his sleeves
He will know all your secrets
And none of your regrets
As he fuses with your thoughts
And makes them
His
Own.
I often wake up in sweats afterwards
My paranoid enjoyments began to seize me
I felt wrapped in the wonderment of it all only to fall back into reality
Taking a step back I begin to recognize my failure
The emotions fly around like a wild animal desperate for life
Inching closer to death I suddenly feel alive
Sprung into action and free
Will my sanity be saved today
Will my course be set
Will my mind be free
Tormented by daily pictures of memories
Keeps me at bay
Racing...forever fast
The end is coming
But not until my next meal
Inspired by Hannibal the series season one... I really dig this show. Not because of all of the gory details nor the forensics part of it. I love the script...I listen carefully to how they speak. I love it.
To my fellow
Asper people
You are great
You are creative
You are straight forward
You are intelligent
Not toxic
Nor biohazardous
Or evil.
 Sep 2021 galaxys archive
will
I'm no puzzle piece
it's not a question
or some problem

I'm a little different
but that's not wrong
I can just be myself

I'm not part of your ideal
I shake, smile, and stutter
and get nervous alone

I'm a lover of many things
just not touching you
or being put into boxes
Sorry for posting so many ASD poems I'm just really frustrated with myself and neurotypicals. I also really hate that puzzle piece symbolism, but blue is my favorite color.
 Sep 2021 galaxys archive
Starry
Have
You
Ever
Felt
Like
You
were
from
Another
Planet
And
Normal
P­eople
Are going
To
Autopsy you
 Sep 2021 galaxys archive
L
Masking
 Sep 2021 galaxys archive
L
The compass inside me has always been fragile, broken. Do you know what happens to a child with no direction? They wear your face. I knew the grownups didn’t love me the way I was. I’ve never been loved. Not when I wore my own face.
 Sep 2021 galaxys archive
L
I am like her, you know.
I am like Alice;
but the flowers and the rabbit, they speak a different language.
And when the Cheshire cat
tells me his riddles, I am alone.
My eyes see his moving mouth,
and I am a creature of Death

in my burning solitude.
 Sep 2021 galaxys archive
cecelia
It's pure madness.
It is.
You think all these weird and strange and impossible thoughts, and you just want to, no, need to, tell someone every little thing you've ever thought.
But you can't.
Because you're absolutely terrified of what they'll think of you.
Because they'll judge you for being different.
For being abnormal.
They'll judge you for being you.
And then your mind starts to move at a thousand miles per hour to form logical reasons why you can't be the same as them.
Your head begins to spin because of all these thoughts colliding, and you can't stop it.
You couldn't stop it even if you tried.
Even if you wanted to.
Then, your mind, it... it just dies.
As if it were pushed to its absolute limit.
You feel horrible, and it's all because you don't know anyone could possibly comprehend you when you can't even do it yourself.
Then, to punish yourself.
To feel numb.
You cut yourself.
And you bleed.
And scar.
You hide it so that no one will ever know.
And the worst part?
It works.
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