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my dark waters stir
turning the moon's placid reflection
into a chaotic dance of broken light
echoes of churning
deep water
saturate
and raise your foreboding laughter
up and over the old well's lips
but you will not awaken me
to burn this nightmare into my core
rather I shall sleep into dawn
awaken to a silent Sun
you once held my heart below these waters
but unlike all those that followed
I survived you
you may impose fear in the heart
of a wayward toad
or other spineless woodland creatures
but I sleep well
immune to your frozen tears
inspired by the song 'Poltergeist' by Banks
https://youtu.be/2WaA8rYCKFo
.                        Thin as a rake
                         No food intake
                      Endless heartache
                        I won't partake,
                     More time does slip
                         Life on a drip,
                      Alone in my head
                       Confined to a bed,
                    
                      My time is passing
                    Unwaivering fasting
                       Mother is crying
                       Body atrophying,

         To my family lying,
                                 That all will be ok.

Though this body will not see the sunrise of another day.
Kübler-Roѕѕ
.                  Bite tear and shred,
               This impulse in my head.

            For the pleasure i do destroy,
               Oh how my fingers bled.

Pretty little teeth, like knives in a pearly sheath, their vicious imprint lingers in the wounds upon my fingers.

                     Bite tear and shred,
                This impulse must be fed.

           No pain too feel it's in my head,
       No pain to feel nerve endings dead.

                    No way i can conceal,
                   my flesh that i do peel,

my Blood starts to congeal,
        my skin it slowly heals.
                        
                           Fresh for another day,
                                    to take my mind away.

When restless​ fingers lead lips astray, in this oddly calming, destructive foreplay.
autosarcophagy, thank you to everyone for reading and liking so much of my work, i really appreciate it
 Mar 2017 Geetha Jayakumar
V
The biggest mistake you can ever make is to walk away from the person who stood and waited for you.
To the people in my life who both walked away and to those who stayed-for many years.
I'm uncomfortable.
I'm uncomfortable with myself,
my body,
even sometimes my own personality.
Nonetheless, you encourage me that there is nothing to be afraid of,
and that I'm beautiful, it's all just a part of human nature you repeat.
I cower, and you question why anxiety is winning a battle so easy for you,
making me feel so small against the giant inside my head.
But how can one scold me for my anxiety for feeling so uncomfortable with touch, and the physical presence of someone else, when emotionally i barely know anything about you.
You're uncomfortable with the way you feel, what you feel,
and how you feel of the ones around you.
How can someone make such comments on me being uncomfortable when emotionally your battle is just as great.
How can i feel so obliged to win this battle when on your end you're doing nothing but throwing sticks?
I can't let go if you yourself continue to build your skyscraper of a wall to the sun and back,
only questioning I as though you are not guilty to the same crime.
And that is why this will never be, we will never be.
If I have to scratch into your soul and pull out what's most precious to you, then I don't want it, because it clearly does not belong to me.
I want to be given the most difficult, treasured pieces of you without asking, without hesitation.
To be given this just because you love me and want to share your entire being with me.
That,
that is when i will do the same.

For the meantime,
I feel like a puppet being used as just an object at play.
To satisfy your needs as if I am deserving of no such thing.
How can one be so consumed in their own desires they cannot tell that the person they hold so dearly is suffocating in their own toxic sea of love they allowed into their heart,
slowly filling their lungs till it is too late to scream for help.
Dear it is not that i do not love you with all my being,
it is that you do not.
When what we see is real,
We sculpt perfection

Refined chimeras,  
Hunt us by night,

Masked behind shadows,
Of trees along the road to a cemetery

The lady in a white dress,
Bare feet, boiling skin

Her long dark hair
Slutty all over her face

And a butcher's knife,
Shining under a moonlight

That is not blood, right?
And why is she walking this way?

Aaaaaaaaah!!!
Am awake

A tapestry of mosaics,
Of Autumn leaves,

Floating down calm waters
rays of a morning sun

The lady in a black dress,
Out the river of youth

Her crystal skin,
With a radiant smile

Colourful eyes,
And wet golden hair,

Down her shoulders,
With splashing waters

As she walks towards me,
And lo,

Am awake,
This time,

For real
Am I happy or sad?
 Mar 2017 Geetha Jayakumar
Angel
She is an angel…
With dark wings,
been through bullets, arrows, and tyrannical things.
She is an angel…
With crooked halo
and beside her was danger
with an eyes like a narrow hallow
her soul is shallow.
A lifetime lies
was all you can see in her eyes
every time she closes it
she sees dark paradise.
She is an angel…
replacing her sun with a moon
the night is her day
and crying was her tune
because the pain in her heart always stay.
She is an angel…
thought that life is the sweetest delight
but transmogrify into endless night.  
She is an angel…
her lips are fatal
her eyes was lethal
She is an angel…
fallen from heaven
but experience more than hell.
I scribble away every day
because every scribble and
scramble might be a preamble
to the last write
the goodnight

I fire off finale's
to guru's
svengali's
like emails
they sail

fail to send?
spend some more time

fine
like I've got all of that and more
I’ve long been pondering suicide,
My life is such a mess,
I thought to try on the other side,
It couldn’t be worse than this,
I’d always been such a coward though
My pain threshold is low,
I wondered how I could **** myself
With just one simple blow.

I didn’t fancy to cut my throat
There’s such a lot of blood,
And somebody has to clean it up
They’d curse me, as they should,
A gunshot straight to the head would put
My brains all over the wall,
And everything would be grey and red
With a blood-spray in the hall.

So I considered a poison pill
And a quart of Mister Beam,
That might just happen to fit the bill
For a death, both quick and clean,
But where would I get a poison pill
To accelerate my death?
I’d hate to die when I’m feeling ill,
Fighting for every breath.

I’d pondered on it so very long
That it quite obsessed my mind,
And I began to see shapes and figures
From some other time,
The ghosts of others who’d gone ahead
And done the evil deed,
Were poisoned, shot, or their throats were cut
When their own lives were in need.

They seemed to come when the clock struck twelve
Just on the midnight hour,
That’s when the demons that rot in hell
Can demonstrate their power,
They kept on coming to egg me on
To get on that fatal bus,
‘You need to do it, it isn’t wrong,
You can join with all of us!’

They almost had me convinced that I
Could drown myself in the sea,
Or pick my favourite river then,
One that appealed to me,
They said to drown was a pleasant death
I’d drift away in a dream,
And none would know that I’d killed myself,
It’s an ‘accidental’ theme.

The next night there came a stranger to
This ghostly neighbourhood,
Trailing festoons of river ****
And covered in clods of mud,
His face was twisted in anguish and
Such pain, that now I see,
Why I have suddenly changed my mind,
That freak-out ghost, was me!

David Lewis Paget
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