Salem: Poems

258 · Jan 2020

A quick introduction as to who I am (Dated)

Salem Jan 2020

A quick introduction as to who I am (Dated)

i've no need to explain myself but a short post about who i am will do most good. as I've studied the psychology and remember that people like to know things.

my name is Sylvester J. Michaelis
i'm puerto-rican, african, and mayan
I enjoy Edgar Allen Poe, Sally face, Sherlock holmes (probably to an unhealthy extent), Alice in wonderland, and true crime
I love Lavender, Roses, Honey, and raspberries
I enjoy the company of cats and birds
I've aspd ( it can be further explained in my poetry)
I feel the best way to express myself is to be cryptically, so I don't get hurt again.
I have a wonderful partner Who I value and hold dear to my heart.
My best friend suggested this website to me
im just your local wendigo prince
instagram: Isolatedarsenic
Twitter: Eleganceingrey

141 · Feb 2020

write my downfall

Salem Feb 2020

write my downfall

2005 the statue in which he lie, of the depths of the bog.

and the cicada buzzing. the breeze of the summer.
no. spring.
spring of april.

the isolation of trees.

gloss eyed children lay scattered as a man failed to collect.
their hands
lay
scattered.
gaps in the tree of the luminance king of ace queen of hearts

jack of all trades

king of hearts is to pierce through the dagger. not the diamond.

sand. in which salmon fly the forest began to reclaim the cards and your highness crumble.

he crumbles. to the subject of society.

consider this the beginning of

The rise and the downfall

of Rain Michaelis

119 · Jan 2020

-Redacted-

Salem Jan 2020

-Redacted-

A quite backwards man indeed. The crown that lay on his head appeared to cause his eyes to fall out. to roll to the back of his throat where the Sterling red jewel rest and made it difficult for him to breathe. a reversed man indeed where he tore his face to the problem of change and let it bleed golden blood on the pavement. Where solitude is a cloak of white a bathe in bleach. There was once a man, this man. named huzzah monsè whose horse sat in a river. monsè in return slaughtered the horse, Obtained it's skin and downed it's blood from the goblet of christ. Crossed himself in the alleyway where he drank lead from the hands of a snake and where the trees ended of the alley in the city he sank into the cement mix where the reversed man lay. His organs tainted gold on which his meal was no more where a skull float of barbed wire and the horse dubbed now a goat by the touch of the snake to the eye of it's beholder.

116 · Jan 2020

disclaimer

Salem Jan 2020

disclaimer

My art is flow of conscious. it is not to be taken serious. I do not condone violence towards people nor animals. All my poetry is fueled by my own pain and trauma. it is not to make sense unless it does, then it's intentional.

103 · Jan 2020

Point of view.

Salem Jan 2020

Point of view.

He who claims the flame of blue. Cloaked in red and hovers above ground. You’ve ran so far yet as I could only watch from behind a screen, a theatrical experience I suppose. I came to wonder what was hidden behind that cloak. Something of velvet and 10 feet tall. I’ve seen the pain well in your eyes and the emotions within you burst to me; I question myself and I question you. In your hands you wield three golden hoops and in a flash you stand and take yourself Down the psychiatric wall past the stage and to a circle of chairs. My point of view, not. But yours. It was strange, for I didn’t know I could dream in such a view. Yet.. Not comforting knowing you’re now hiding from yourself.

103 · Jan 2020

image of reality-slurred.

Salem Jan 2020

image of reality-slurred.

The brain. If not subjected to senses depriving the whole image of reality. the stars align and planets submerge in the basement; where the child of a black cat, an omen perhaps lay under the building a girl when she takes the golden lock with the key her father obtained, barefoot the smile in which...unsettled me to the Kitten, it's grey eyes hung from the ceiling where the blue light emerged from the thinning gown of faces I seen and the moon where it closed the closet door embroidered in emerald where the body of a bride lay faceless in the afternoon. The cat pounced from the tree and the bird spread its wing only to fall into the pits where the mud sunk in the sockets of death. The golden lock stay hidden in the grass where the ravenous boy opened a contentless book to rip the pages, where he was pressured to darkness hiding sunlight from leaves. Where the rose die off and the lake bleeds with ink from the fish and creatures but the smile of the cat haunt him and the barrier of the animal stab at his chest where he ate the bread and drank the wine from the earth itself, he manifest of green and gold, lay in the ice and allowed himself death.

68 · 1d

Re-introduction

Salem 1d

Re-introduction

Last time I logged into this account I was 15, that was in 2020. I am now 20. It is crazy how fast time flies, everything is so incredibly different. I've still got insane poetry, I got way better at drawing if you'd like to see my art, all of my other accounts are @n0t.Salem on most platforms! I'd love to be more active here and post more poetry pertaining to my characters.

Posting some more art soon

yaaayyyyy

31 · 1d

There is a house (Eliott's Poem)

Salem 1d

There is a house (Eliott's Poem)

A desolate house
empty, devoid
once filled with life
its wood always warm

a desolate house
deep in the dark woods
taken over by leaves
untouched by a foot

a realtors nightmare

a young man full of pride
who's heart is too big
washed up in the tide

a nice diamond ring
a love never there
a dying dead flame
a head full of hair

bound to another
a small tiny crack
a  staircase now fallen
the very same wood
now singed black

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it hungers. it breathes.
in each wall, they seethe.
the victims inside, the ones he cant see
they beckon they call
they seethe and they seethe.

this poem is about my original character Eliott Blanchette.

#horror #house #psychologicalhorror #oc

— The End —