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like the blood that seeps
through the holes n gaps in my skin
i patch it up
with paper and tape
but what lays underneath
calls every blade to my skin
i try again
to keep it away
but it causes a hunger that's impossible to satisfy
in any other way

but maybe that's a story for another day.
The smell of cherries,
Rich, tangy, sweet,
Like syrup dripping down through my water,
Leaving my lungs filled with nauseatingly, gorgeous pink,
Outside the window’s damp metallic screen.
It pulls my eyes out,
Leaving across the city,
Dark and screaming as it is.
Screaming to be worth something,
To be known,
And all we are is above, in the clouds.
Pink, suffocatingly high,
All around us the air sings,
And I am choking,
Colliding with the atmosphere,
The heart envelops the mind,
I am here again,
All metal.
Waking nightmare,
The smell of cherries.
Jason 6d
You flow through my poetry

like the blood from the movie Alien

From the top, all the way down.
Sweet soothing words,
an attempt to mask
back stabbing deceit.

You watch my life,
stain the carpet red.
LC Apr 28
ink flows out of my brain
through my blood vessels
to my soft fingertips.
my hands curl into fists
as I crumple a sheet of paper.
a corner lightly cuts my finger,
and the ink flows onto the page.
#escapril day 27!
There he stood outside the windowsill—waiting for the wind
to whisper in her ears, his soft call of her name
heed the faceless man, there he stood, outside the windowsill.

Her soul awakens and her hand in her chin
fresh from the bathe of her blood—there Avernus,
faceless, standing outside her chamber—waiting for the woman to fall asleep.

The faceless man than wanting to reside by her side,
softly lulling her into death, prickling her thumb with a needle of life and death
through the parallel of his world and hers—there he stood waiting for his muse.

He grows slowly and deeply, his stomach churning—savoring
her blood in his mind, he waits until she falls asleep.

Her eyes wandered through the thin port outside her room—
The trees harshly peering through her window,
It is as if, they were telling dark tales in the midnight dawn of the night.
Avernus then sang in his native tongue; his muse terrified at the sight of him—yet there was
comfort between the wind and the chilly night outside her window.

“It’s cold outside, why are you standing there?” She called out.
Here comes a new poem. :)
Hopes of a future never to come pass.
Cutting of thread leaving a trail of red.
Comforting lies, take on vengeance’s plasse.
Callow certainty leading my bloodshed.

Essence refusing change, oil and water.
Dripping maroon, satisfies my sweet tooth.
Lost track of my goal, now it's a slaughter.
Enciphered desire, immiscible youth.

As I let go sorrow’s waters -- forlorn,
See me with your purest eyes, unerring
Touch of a mother’s hand, I am reborn.
Sins, a raven’s coat, heavens are glaring.

And as I lay my vision ridden red,
How foolish to lead to one’s own bloodshed.
this is my first sonnet (I did it without the iambic pentameter because I'm still learning)
Akta Agarwal Apr 23
Donate blood as much as you can
You will be blessed
It's a harmless and priceless act
to save someone's life from death
May by your blood
a baby may found her mother back
or may a sister can save her brother from going into grave
may by it our grandpa will be awake
to tell us many stories
which might not be fake
Drop of blood
flowing vein to vein
may save a person from becoming insane
may you can become a reason of their joy
Donate blood
It will be best gift
anyone can ever give
spread smile and omit tears
it will help you in troubles
Donate blood
And get blessed
Donate your blood
It may help the needful
Strying Apr 21
have no fear,
don't look back
only take words of wisdom,
from your own soul.
u are ur own inspiration.
rig Apr 19
                          blood ribbons
                          in a
tree sap
               lemonade –
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