I have been walking past a dead rotting body for weeks now.
A badgers body perfect looking at first and slowly watching the worms and maggots eat away at the flesh. slowly decaying and rotting and becoming nothing. this is life. this is real. and this is the truth. this is everyone's eventuality. that is our future.
The smell of death was unforgettable, and it makes me wonder why we try so hard when in the end we are just a body that will fade to nothing...
A twitch of my head and the dead will crawl. The dead will crawl with a scratching so intense they will leave marks upon my mind. With the marks hard to remove, I twitch my head once more and awake the dead’s ancestors. One by one they eat the flesh of the living within me, every aspect of life and trace of goodwill never evident after their presence. The eyes of the dead so dark, my own eyes swell with the blackness of every mark they have ever left. With one final twitch of my head I am consumed; under the power of the dead that are now living within me. No wrong doings were made on my behalf yet the dead take over and find solace within the living thoughts I once possessed.
For every defiance I lay rules until fifth times At first I feign ignorance At second, I exercise patience On third, my final drops of tolerance At fourth, know my resistance And at fifth, I will devoid you of existence. Never waste your chances For you loose them in the process.
I Ask No More Than Thrice -Jean Lewis June 7, 2018 By far one of my darkest poems ever hehehe. I'm not emotional or anything just need to release the sinister side of life.
The winter is haunting soon. I embrace the darkness beneath the moon. I am all done wishing for the sunshine to stay.
All I want for Christmas is, A place I can just give the whole thing a miss. To me it’s just another day of misery.
When snow is falling all around, moods can swiftly change, But mine will always remain down; For I am helpless in my own self-pity and I will always feel this way.
Dark thoughts are all I keep inside my head; The nightfall is no longer a friend I know. Love is my enemy, because love is dead; All the questions I ask receive a negative reply…no.
Can I be loved? Can I learn to trust? Will I ever live a long and happy marriage, or will I never become us? There are many questions that will never be answered; Of that I am sure. Circumstance took my only chance at redemption, From a life I must endure.
I can tell no lie, nor can I swear a pact; But at least I can criticize my life of lies, Because I know exactly what I feel about that.