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Strung Nov 2019
She left the gate agar
And the sun crept in to steal my time,
Adding the ever-careful wrinkles round my eyes.
Dead strawberries withered with care
And Rainy, ****** skies weighed down  with weeks of meager, longing stares.

Is there more I can hold in the folds of my fingers?
Drip through the cracks, I fumble.
I wish I could see my darkening eyes...
And hear the seeds of my labor
crumble
Are there ever enough days? Enough time? I’ll never do it all...
Mark Wanless Aug 2019
knock and the door
   shall be opened
my knuckles are ******

what is felt but
   not spoken
my knuckles are ******
heard it  before
Anastasia Aug 2019
Sweet
Little
******
Boy
Let me wipe your face
Stand up
And smile
Your pretty smile of grace
Sweet
Little
******
Boy
You will be alright
I will hold you closely
And tell you in stories at night
Sweet
Little
******
Boy
I promise I will love you
And I swear
On my life
I won't let anyone touch you
He's gone through some trauma
- Jul 2019
sitting at my desk,
writing
not me but
the demons
residing within me
every word,
is mine,
but not about me
maybe you or that one girl, out of many
who knows
my pen bleeding like my heart
every letter word or thought
drenched with blood
no sweat
Philomena Jun 2019
"Some girls like diamonds
Some of them want fancy things
They hunger for the taste of glamour
And we rot and find some others' rings

Your sweethearts need their princes
Flattery and filthy pearls
Barbie, don't mess with the Marilyn kisses
Your original material girl

But I'm not like those other types, baby
I'm your ****** creature poster girl

Make you crawl, make you beg, make you plead
Make you want, make you hurt, make you bleed

So toxic
Psychotic
Chaotic
****** creature poster girl

Make you laugh, make you cry, make you need every little slasher
**** the father's sweetheart, ****** creature poster girl

Baby, you can keep your diamonds
You can burn all your fancy things
I hunger for the taste of a painful week
That can survive my wicked sting

Darling I don't need no princes
I'm no damsel in distress
The only thing I'm needing is for you to be bleeding
From my homicidal kiss

You see, I'm not like those other girls, baby
I'm your ****** creature poster girl"
13-17 May 2019
my spine coughs
pain,
****** smoke
& anger drives
my vertebrae
to get close
to the heart
& cleave it
caves
with bony blood
wave
Isn't giving up lovely?
Hannah May 2019
I still remember the way
He spit on me
The way he grabbed my hair and
Stabbed my head to the
Wardrobe; repeatedly
The worst two hours of my
Twenty years of living
He pinched me
It was like a violent
Movie scene
Of a psychopath
Having pleasure in beating his
Daughter.
I saw it all in his pupils
The satisfaction of throwing me
On the ground, endlessly.
Verbally abusing me
Since that day
I knew what strength was
Even though, I did not defend myself
I did not push him
I did not scream
I sat on the floor in silence
In fear and loathing
3 AM; everyone is asleep.
I grabbed the razor blade
And I broke it
I took the razor
And cut my arms and legs
Open wide
It was a blood flood
I used my painting brush
And I intended on
Painting the aisle
Next to his room
With my own blood.
Freya Adwin Apr 2019
The burn
of skin,
the smell concerns
your friends and family.
They know they’re next, but
they’ll try their best
to fight me off
but I'll bite off
chunks of their skin
to reveal their succulent blood
that lies within.
Let it pour over my tongue,
let the taste
erase
my thoughts
they melt away
with the bitter taste of ****** on my lips.
Cannibalistic.
My mind-
it’s twisted!
as your skin between my teeth.
The smell-
They claim it reeks but
its all I live for!
It's just a shame it's what they die for.
Not!
Just another murderous poem, those are my favorites. People are gonna start thinking I'm mentally deranged or something if I keep this up lol.
Amanda Shelton Apr 2019
All around,
the dark memories gathered.

My pain grew as cold chills
fell against my naked soul.

My tear’s smite me,
and upon their release
my essence drips
to the wicked earth that
will in prison me someday
underneath a gravestone.

In agony I hang my head,
as oblivion approaches
with a cold reminder
I am alone, my tear’s
fell upon darkened times
hydrating my doom.

The devil taunt’s me
reminding me of my
appending doom.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton
Welcome to my new poetic collection ****** Quill’s.

Upon these pages I leave behind my tear’s and frustrations. Within my poetic translations you can find truth, struggle, love, and bit’s of my broken design. I am blessed with a gift of writing poetry and drawing. I hope you enjoy my poetic designs.
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