Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mouth-foamed tremors
Spineless sinners

Ashe soaked layers
Mindless prayers

Hate thy father
Love, why bother
Sad goes farther

Candle carver
Shapely mother
Child she'll smother
swaggmaster Feb 4
they say showing your true self can be scary
and that people like to avoid it
like bugs crawling under your skin
sinking their teeth from within

theres no way to escape the mites
that pump you full of frights
they linger and quiver
until you're stuck wondering
why you're getting thinner.
Friar Tom Dec 2018
I lay to rest and shut my eyes
What dream shall fall before I rise
I doze off into beauteous sleep
Oh 'I pray the Lord my soul to keep'.

Next I feel impending harm
Awe-stricken gaze peers to my arm
I watch as bugs crawl under skin
They journey in, oh journey in.

Maggots and worms and crawly things
My cries form sheer, horrific screams
My body decaying, a death-colored rot
My end be the only thing that I sought.

I woke up startled, scratching skin
Worried intruders had found a way in
Hours have passed, the feeling has not
Lord, in my mind, may my senses be fought.
I had a rather dark dream last night that had me squirming in my chair when I woke to initially write this piece. Not a good feeling, to say the least.
Trevor Welch Oct 2018
Yellow bees and shedding trees
Tuck Autumn into memory
Fallen leaves and dampened streets
Bring season to each breath ~
Though Winter's close as podded peas
And Spring not so far off,
The beauty brought in each closed petal
Means Summer's sauntered on
Gale L Mccoy Oct 2018
i. let the flower crumble in my hands
my hand moved of its own violation
no petals just fine powder
ill make a new lipstick to wear

ii. i take my coffee with chocolate now
my hard liquor with water
down my wine like a shot

iv. these festering bugs are my halo
muddy feet to mark the path to avoid
good nights rest in a cesspool

iii. jaw popping like a *****’s gone lose
if i cut my tongue off today
i know it'll grow back twice as long

v. red in my pocket and it's not even blood
Tanay Sengupta Sep 2018
As the moon shines
And the stars decorate the sky,
A lonely owl hymns
While the bats fly.
Lightning bugs scatter around
Like will-o'-the-wisps at night,
Without any sound
Oh, what a delight!
The neighbour's hound is on guard
She will not allow anyone to pass,
No one is allowed in her yard
At this hour, only a fool will walk on her grass.
Her howl pierces the air
Bringing an end to the silence,
She announces she won't share
She will not tolerate any form of violence.
Across the street, few floors above
Two players are taking their turns,
In the famous game of push and shove
While a tiny candle burns.

Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
As usual, I will not explain this poem. I think it is evident by now that I won't explain any of my poems to you. I want you to perceive it the way you want to. Happy reading!
Jonathan Benham Aug 2018
The dirt in line with your toes,
the grass in line with your ankles.
Your arms jump then freeze,
your fingers touching the grass.
Nothing has ever seemed so real.
But, it is only a moment.
You begin to dig and
you keep going, you don’t care.
You don’t care.

Pestilence growing in your nails,
refusing to see the grass, so flimsy,
now that you finally had the courage,
to hold on to the dream.
The dream that abates in line with the thought that follows-

Why god, did he do that to me?

Sweat accrues, and you wipe your face.
The dirt from your nails beseeches your face.
The clock is ticking.
You stare into the hole you are making.
And as you do,
you feel the grass beginning to grow once again.

Your fingers, greasy, yet you remain dedicated.
Dedicated to this craft!
Dedicated to this destiny!
But you can’t stop the grass, time is running thin,
the rain has begun.
You must finish.

You dig more and now, now,
finally, the water slips from your cheeks,
landing in the center of the hole.
with endless and dazzling tiny legs you dream of come out of the sides,
only to find that they, too, are merely experimenting.
Ripped grass tears through their bodies, and as your rip it out,
so do their screams. You hear them.
Begging just for one more breath,
before you crush them with your feet.
But the hole kept shrinking.
But their screams wouldn’t cease.
More kept coming from the ground.
Begging for peace.
You disrupted their lives, and so,
you must **** them all.
They simply needed a way out of this.
You thought you were doing them a favor.
You thought you were doing them a favor.

Your hands jump back to your face.
Their screams remained,
or was the memory just that vivid?

You’ve grown tired.
Leaving your motionless state
was enough.
You can’t do this anymore.

You made the wrong decision.
But, now, the disease has spread.
Running out of words to describe,
Is just the beginning.
You hear the screams returning.
Do you not deserve this?
You can’t move at all.
You feel, nothing, but,

More creatures escape,
and surround the murderer!
You beg, you beg, just for a response.
But they just stare.
Moving as eternity.
You beg for mercy.
But they have none to give.
And the rain becomes too much.
They drown one by one.

They scream standing.
You hear birds in the distance.
Finally, the rain has gone,
and, finally, you are
above the clouds watching peace take over.
this is my first piece of writing in months. My psych meds have really stifled my creativity as of late.
Maya Aug 2018
i like bugs.
they remind me
that life is important
on a small scale.
even the most frustrating
are beneficial to nature and
our ecosystem wouldn't be the same
without them.

except mosquitoes.
they can **** right off,
the ***** bloodsucking *******.
i can't stab the **** bug with a wooden stake.
Eric Pon Aug 2018
Spiders in the washroom
Moths up in the hall
No matter where I go-
theres these bugs that fly and crawl

All around my precious home
They take up their tiny space-
Intruding on my peace of mind
as they sneak around the place

So about these little bugs
I sit right here & *****
dredding all their lilttle bites-
their sting and then their itch.
Next page