an ache that never leaves, what an inexplicably evil thing. Such an evil that stays, even when I am staring into the warm eyes of the sun make it stop make it stop. Please, for the love of god, make the ache stop. dare I even pray anymore? all I can do is claw at an invisible wound in a dark, secret place. red. nothing but red. I taste it between my lips I feel it between my thighs. It hurts. it hurts. feral loneliness is a wretched thing. unholy
only the dark can see my desperate fingers find reprise in between my lonely thighs she cries with me I slip into delirium then she kisses me goodnight ma chérie
first poem on this site in almost three years. I am determined to try and post here regularly again. But, in the case I slip off again, you can find this poem and all my other works on my poetry instagram: sarahimanpoetry.
of violence and passion, I beg you to let my heart be still for in you both are unholy inhibitions that flow endlessly and recklessly when unleashed; I cannot bear to have any more blood on my flesh the wounds are still fresh
of violence and passion I beg to let me sleep tonight cease the revolution that continues to claws at my chest deep from within
I beg I beg
of violence and passion please let me breathe for it is hard to live when your lungs are full of endless destruction and heartache for it is hard to live when every violent word wants to flow from my mouth and reveal in all the horror it will leave in its wake
notes wrap around my heart like a noose suffocating but sweet. the strings cut beneath flesh the vibrato pouring into my veins.
melancholy surrounds me still a phantom ravaging my skin. But I can only submit, there is no resistance the melody has seduced me * in flesh it has craved its name this monster that spills from the beautiful depths of music's darkest abyss .
* in this **** there is only one sound -- that of a violin and the ghosts of war.
inspired by the Carach Angren masterpiece "The Funerary Dirge of a Violinist"