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Mikey Kania May 17
I'm haunting myself
I leave strange notes carved deep
To await me when i wake
In a vain hope
they will evoke some meaning for my sake
The scene that greets me the next day
Is alien and weird
I don't recognise myself
It is just as i feared
So i haunt myself
When the penny drops at midnight
and the demi-gods are in sight
I'll leave a reminder
I hope to find
In the rising of dawn
But when i'm reborn
with a yawn
I find nothing but questions
Dark reflections
In a puddle of beer
and stark rejection
I muddle to clear the rubble and troublesome struggles i near
in my direction
So i haunt myself
I barely remember writing
Never remember feeling
and as soon as i get close to whats real then I turn away reeling
I figure it out every night
But drunk eyes give short sight
and the brain rotten
so as soon as i strain to recall the next day it's forgotten
Amnesia is pleasing when the reason I'm feeling this daemonic screaming is cos it feels as real as the ceiling
Then it subsides for a second
or a minute i reckon
Before the darkness beckons once more
I'm haunting myself
and unsure
I'm scared of the person
I was the night before
I'm host to a ghost
that revels in the terrible things
that cost me the most
Battling with the shadow it casts
hassled by the past like tassels on a cat
Me and the fiend in the glass staring back
I'm haunting myself
I had to ask Troubadour from allpoetry to have his great poem to be published here on HP. He agreed.
A remarkable read.
IMCQ Apr 27
Fiendish wires driven deep into the mind.
Subsisting on the chaos it compels unto others.
Craving lechery and deference.
When resisted the coils tighten.
Its weighted vines make it difficult to stand.
I know what it fears,
We are the same.
The threads are not mine.
If I controlled the them I'd do the same.
We are puppeteers.
I see the treasure he holds, how he abuses it.
Run away.
Jay M Feb 27
Longing
For one of the only things I cannot have
Locked away from me
At least I can be
Three months sober
On March 2nd
Just give me a second
To catch my breath
And stop myself

I see the cord and lock
Thinking maybe if I took a rock
And hit it
It could break open
Unlocking the liquor
Then an image likes to flicker
Reminding me what I said
I made a promise
Not to drink
So I think

For a long time, I think
"I won't take that drink."
But then again,
Something in me,
A fiend,
Wants me not to be cleaned
Wants me to be tainted
To be painted
Like a picture
And plastered

So I argue with said fiend,
"I have been cleaned,"
I say to it,
Trying to reason,
"and I made a promise."
Then the fiend, "But miss,"
"what if t'were but a sip?"
This makes me think
Before I have time to counter,
I look in the mirror and encounter
My reflection
And in it I imagine myself
Holding a bottle
I don't want to touch the throttle
That could lead to that road

I am drowning in my own pain
I have little to nothing to gain
So I respond,
"Fiend, you beseech me;"
"think this is the opportune moment,"
"But I shall make this a restated movement."
So I take the fiend
Hold it in my grasp and stare
Down at it, in this nightmare
I ask it,
"Why, why do you care?"
It is silent,
Takes its turn to stare
And to ask me,
"Why, why do you resist,"
"when something to sooth thy pain sits there?"

I drop said fiend
Taken aback by its counter
So I sit on the bathroom counter
Then think with my eyes closed
How one such as it
Could tempt me so
Busying myself with something to sew
But I cannot be distracted for long
Not with something so strong

Whenst I was tempted last
I revisited something from my past
Let it take control
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Five and no more
Then, when I walked out that door
The tides had turned
Casting be into the waters of guilt
Causing my soul to wilt

"Fiend..."
I called
It was not appalled,
"Yes, miss? What ever plagues thee so?"
A smile upon its face
I reply,
"Old habits I thought I had buried - I tell no lie."
Then,
That little fiend replies,
"But, not the one thou yearned for not long ago."
Thoughts tell me to drop it, let it go
"Nay, not a drop has touched these lips."
The fiend laughs!
"But of course not - but blood loves to seep."
So there I weep
Fiend laughing
Winning in its own, sick and twisted ways
Eventually going to let me choose
What more do I have to lose?

- Jay M
February 26th, 2020
I've been tempted...tempted, but haven't done a thing.
Mikey Kania Feb 20
come on
hand me a poem will ya

or at least a stanza i
be willing to do everything

what? then gimme a
verse i'm sweating like
hell

not even a verse? cmon!

then...then...then...
a word baby!
please just one ****** word

or i mean frankly ahem argh
gimme letters

at least one single meaningful
letter
Invitation to a fiendship.

YouTube: Feinkost Paranoia So oder So
Mikey Kania Nov 2019
come on
hand me a poem will ya

or at least a stanza i
be willing to do everything

what? then gimme a
a verse kiddo i'm sweating like
hell

not even a verse? cmon!

then...then...then...
a word baby!
please just one ****** word

or i mean frankly ahem argh
gimme letters

at least one single meaningful letter
invitation to a fiendship
Hlengiwe Aug 2019
It walks around with a mirror
Showing the reflection of your soul
Tricking you into believing it's his personality
Making you fall in love with it
Filtered with friendship traits
Luring you to its kingdom
******* from you your blood and soul
Turning you against yourself
Making you your own enemy
With it success is foreign
And no outside things are allowed in its castle
It makes you toxic with its diabolical nature
And blinds you from reality
It controls you till it becomes you
Soon when you look into the mirror
Your soul wont be reflected
The only thing you will see is
The fiend
Malignant it is indeed....
she is
in limbo
when Jumbotron
in Bogata
has sports
and impair
action that
any stampede
rot with
their indecision
on Farc
12 and
the art
of shaving
in locker
room on
field hoy
the field today
renée Jun 2019
our weariness is waxing from these
fiery, hellish universes—
these same sick, fiery, hellish verses
rendered out of vile fiends’ lips
liar, liar—the price required
is a mere soul’s harrowing worth
satan’s spires, hounding hell-fire—i wonder, does he cede the
cost of his hostile mirth?
Leal Knowone Mar 2019
Meeting the foul faced fiend & foe we call death.
Lurking about looking for souls, a collector in the truest sense.
Mortals can be persistent,pondering away subsistence.
From death breaths life, a rotting coexistence.

There is nothing but bones left
A gorgeous array of decay
The splendor of existence lost
The amusement of resistance

Gandering at the reaper we can  see life, and reflect
We may see many worlds, life in the blink of an eye, right before our death.

Try not to inject your morals for the minds you infect.
Is there ever really a time when there's absolutely nothing left?
In the world of your mind you must be the architect.
the worlds crumbling down. Your mind is yours to *****

There is nothing but bones left
A gorgeous array of decay
The splendor of existence lost
The amusement of resistance


The dead flower has more power than your wilted soul.
My knife has more life to watch death grow.
That broken glass a stones throw. You are Building up a rebels soul.

There is nothing but bones left
A gorgeous array of decay
The splendor of existence lost
The amusement of resistance

Nothing but bones. Such a gorgeous array. The splendor of existence.The amusement of resistance, and the foul faced fiend we call death.
Looking for souls. Morality they say.....
Mortals can be persistent.
pondering away subsistence.

Gandering at death we see life and reflect
Try not to inject your morals, minds you infect.
Is there ever a time when there's nothing left?
In the world of your mind, be the architect.

The dead flower has more power than your wilted soul.
My knife has more life to watch death grow.
That broken glass, stones throw. Building up a rebels soul.
Toxic yeti Nov 2018
I walk the line between love and hate
This apple's bad and rotten, rotten to the core
Get up, get up, and trick or treat
Get down, get down, my love!
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between war and peace
My business is a little **** Bill
I eat so much I don't walk I merely waddle!
No you wouldn't listen & I don't blame you
No I don't blame ya!
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between yin & yang
My rent is 0 a day
I can't move
You know that's the price you pay
Is life all in vain?
Starts off in my arm
Opens up my brain
I'm already in the nivarana -
Next stop is the paradise!
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between life and and death
Live fast, die young
Live fast, die young
I walk the line
Hate
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between joy and depression
While others have been thinking about it - I've been there and back
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
I walk the line
Between good and evil
This alien *** fiend song I walk the lime resenates with me because of my struggle with PTSD, and borderline personality disorder.
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