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Mark Wanless Mar 8
the dog ate the bone
the human ate the fat dog
and i feel so good
Kassan Jahmal Oct 2021
And a rib was pulled from a side,
Soon was molded to be his Lover:
Tiny whispers calling beautiful bride,
Now with my hand so soft and bare,
I tend to land, 'these grounds of heart.'

Lay down my eyes, hoping now to see,
The widest eyes, lookers of everything:
'O, stop looking for perfect fish of the Sea'
Rubbing salt in a wound, that won't heal.

All we are; are two skies far apart,
Longing to be one being and in flesh,
A piece self trading into your heart:
Love was first made, we came second.

Children all of our Adam and Eve,
The seeds of a garden forgotten:
But even as I don't see my paradise,
Darling you'll always be my Eden.
Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2021
Strange creatures stirring
Hiding them inside our skin
Bone and flesh prison
We all have demons inside us
Alienpoet Jul 2021
I love you beyond the life I lead
beyond daydreams I had as a child
beyond this cage of bone
and the words I pray
I love you beyond

Beyond the earth which houses my body
Beyond the demons of desperation
Beyond belief and believing
beyond the sands of time
I love you beyond

Beyond hands which desire your touch
Beyond the music which sings out
Beyond my eyes which gaze
beyond all my doubts
I love you beyond

In the blackest hope I will find you
and I grasp your hand
Sit with you and make you understand
I love you beyond.
Gabriel Jul 2021
Almost like clockwork,
the bone breaks. This time,
an arm, a warning
against the things that hands
can do. Cut it off not at the disease,
but at the root.

We hope, this time,
that we were quick enough
in the amputation.
That the disease has spread
no further than the floor
upon which the phantom limb jerks.

Last time, it was slow,
an infestation below the muscle
until the patient was screaming
for morphine. We had to cut
the lower leg first, but the thigh
was already prisoner.

The neuroscience department
has been working overtime
on all the brains we lobotomised
before removal. We’re thinking
that’s where it ruminates,
dormant, like a volcano.

The infection manifests
differently in everyone.
In some, it cries for attention,
and we cut the throat.
In others, it’s violence,
and it ends up killing itself.

There’s not much we know
and even less we can name.
When they brought my body
in, they called it loneliness,
and cut out my heart.
The wolves ate well that night.
From a portfolio I wrote in third year of university, titled 'Infestation'.
Mark Wanless Jan 2021
the dog ate some flesh
off my arm then killed the bear
okay i agree
Chris Chaffin Jan 2021
Him
I am small like a child,
wet face pressed
against a massive chest.

His arms crush me gently,
wrap me in a shroud
of sinew and bone

as the smell of bourbon
and musk fills my nostrils.
His breath feathers lightly

across the top of my head;
reassuring whispers
tickle my spine

and tell me
I am not wicked,
I am not a useless, hopeless thing.

I am perfect and flawed.
I am loved.
It is enough.
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