Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Felix Apr 2020
You tear tributes from my flesh,
From out my soul seep the sweetest sonnets,
I'm leaking love in puddles at your feet.
A Simillacrum Sep 2019
Caught your long lost locks,
blonde through the silver fog,
flitting away or
could it have been toward?

Once, I would have thought
it's just a dream and not
real, warm flesh to flesh,
volcanic breath to breath.

Best not waste a good thing
in the face of your favorite catch.
A master of their craft
can't manipulate the longing pain.
CautiousRain Sep 2019
The flesh, the flesh,
it's always the flesh.

I sometimes wish I would have
given up
just to see how much
you'd try to take.
posting my drafts
yikes
Anastasia Sep 2019
acid
dripping
bodies
writhing
worms
crawling
in my lungs
bones
breaking
eyes
shaking
nails
scratching
my flesh
Ash Aug 2019
My light:
Dappled in the rearview mirror,
cracked at the surface.
I am bruised but not broken.
Scarred,
But i still have my  foundation.
Bruises they heal.
Scars they scab over.
Hearts torn apart,
But in heaven they’re woven.
crinkled skin wraps around the sunlight,
Fingernails kissing the moon.
The light is there i just have to dig farther,
The light is there,
It's you.
Anastasia Aug 2019
jagged
and ******
the glass
pierces

dripping
to the ground
red jewels
smeared

it doesn't hurt
anymore
when it rips
into my flesh

it doesn't hurt
anymore
but you do
Tammy Cusick Aug 2019
Withered through these relinquished lips,
softly lays an embellished, embroidered, carcass.
Torn across flesh-like soil
caressing gently into this impermeable being,
you're only human.

So allowing in the presence of indigenous, oblique thoughts
slanting into the belly
never feeling so bare
the hunger deprives.
The nails of your eyes piercing into the forefront of mush you call a brain,
feeling the earth distinctively tremble with each step you chase closer to the ledge

Clutching onto the white knuckle breast
your hands pounding at your fingertips
its electric running through your veins
feeling it at the core
so helplessly, lost.

Your throat knots into one-thousand splinters
splicing relentlessly between your core
the wedge of your mortal body becomes noticeable to your soul
detaching,
jumping.

Slithering one step closer,
pull the rope
you leap
you rot

one more inch closer,
you can feel it
separating your surroundings from comfort ability
picking up between each breath
shaking at your own wake.

there you have it
at the brim of the edge
you've push yourself this close
whats one last jump out of this skin?
SøułSurvivør Aug 2019
Her cheeks a'blooming
Fresh petals
Assuming a charm
All their own....

Flesh roses
In a flute of bone.

Her arms are strong wings
Ethereal beauty, poised
For her journey, as a
Tern is
On its long feathered flight
From the North
She wings her way

To the South
Only to meet
The arctic waste
Once more...

Yet the flesh roses never fade

For they are
frozen with tears.

Catherine Jarvis
8/19/2019
Another poem for the book. This illustration done by Sarah, who has a skilled touch & wonderful imagination.
Asominate Jul 2019
For your fresh flesh,
I have a craving
I find it best
When you're still breathing


I'm wanting you...
Squirming in my teeth
No humans were harmed in the making of this poem... hopefully.
Jo Barber Jul 2019
Bodies seeking bodies.
Flesh longing always,
always,
for more flesh.
Kisses and touches,
once so sweet,
feel empty now.
Keep looking.
Maybe you'll find
something you didn't expect.

Maybe you'll even find yourself.
Next page