Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Weronika Piela May 2015
Her vintage sunglasses were lying on the shelf
When she brushed her hair
Oh Annabelle
Why did you did this to me?
You are so beautiful
So Beautiful

Your eyes
Your hair
Your heart
Your guts
Your lungs
Your blood

Oh Annabelle! - I shouted
And I took her vintage sunglasses
When she was lying in the bathtub;
DEAD
Weronika Piela May 2015
Her guts were spilling
Through her open mouth
As she moaned giving her last breath
Annabelle's skin started getting pale
Her eyes Stopped
She was looking at me
When I gently stroke her silky hair


      I felt the light breeze on my skin...
   -I like the sound of the wind-
I thought to myself
And left the room
Hope you like poems like this. ;)
Yasha Harkness Apr 2015
Footsteps outside.
The creak of an opening door.
A piercing scream.
Flashes of gleaming steel.
A sickening crunch.
Blood. Blood. Blood.
E v e r y w h e r e.
On the walls.
On the floor.
On the dead body.
On the assassin.
A cold laugh.
Footsteps.
The door opens, and closes.
Creaky floorboards sound.
The front door slams.
The assassin is gone.
The house is quiet.
Hours pass.
The body cools.
The door rattles.
A teenager enters.
Bag flung aside.
A hesitating call.
A search begins.
Blood seeps out the door.
She follows the trail.
A blood-curdling scream.
Written on the wall -
The words - Happy Birthday.

**In blood.
first poem ever :D
neo Apr 2015
there are bones between my teeth
moonlight glimmering in my eyes
dried blood in my nails, in my hair
my head pounding (thump. thump. thump.)
you know they say blood is thicker than water but that just means blood is more likely to stick in my throat
coughing up family ties one by one
glistening red memories, leaving only a metallic aftertaste
sick nightmare fantasy of ripping open bodies
im the monster in your fairytale stories
lets do a bit of editing, perhaps?
lets shred the whole **** book, perhaps?
lets set fire to the town, perhaps?
im tired of pretending to be your precious child, perfect student, "the innocent one"
i want to paint obscene material in your blood (in the name of art, of course)
@god do you ever feel unreal? are you even real? am i?
no i have to be real, I can feel the blood dripping down my arm, the bones cracking in my spine
im real. im real. im real.
everything hurts!!!!!  **** i cant wait to rip you all to shreds !!!!!!
T H I S  I S  N O T  A  D R E A M
walking on eggshells is far more difficult with digitigrade legs, im not gonna try to be nice anymore
i dont need to be nice anymore
why be nice when you can ****? why just **** when you can slaughter?  
nobody can stop me from lighting up the post office,
nobody can stop me from gouging out your eyes
im no god but im closer than you
im no angel but you might be soon
close your blinds, lock your doors
big bad wolf is back again
bigger, badder, better wolf
greater, darker, madder wolf
teeth like knives and claws like daggers
six golden eyes staring into your soul
oh right, thats me!
i m  i n  y o u r  h o m e
im tired nd i had like one line thought up so i made this nonsense pile of junk
i guess its like??? stuff abt me ? thought-wise
idk none of my poems make sense anyway so
AJ Scott Mar 2015
sugar and spice and nothing at all nice
loving and living like a walk on black ice
headless necks spilling ****** thought
lost limbs and robotic replacements bought

hide and seek with skin between sheets
little head nods and a lovers retreat
brain cysts' toxicity and ****** lips
maybe I'll heal the pain with a few nips

dessert for thought and a certain arrogance
unavoidably admitted-this is indeed romance
a viral infection where nothing is fine
violet poison absorption; im losing my mind.
this is gory i guess im sorry if you don't like that stuff
KA de Vallance Mar 2015
You are the scars on my chest.
The deep lines like an epitaph engraving right below my heart.
Each scar a ****** stanza
of the poem
you know you wrote.
This is very old
Valorous visage,
rivulets of gore seep
glory blooms.
Courage to face even death, for the sake of their nation, will gain eternal eminence.
Mosaic Mar 2015
My elbow pops
Like the way the word
Snap dragon sounds

My freckles aren't constellations
They're reminders that I am not
Dark and ancient
Like my ******* father

My hair
FRIZZY
Like a pumpkin on fire

Voice
So sweet it makes me sick
And now all my teeth have fallen out

My throat swollen
A cave with an avalanche stuck inside
Dead bats
And stalactites like toothpicks
I don't need

Nails
Like tree bark
Hollow in all the right places

Scars
Like a record
Of the way I hurt myself
Put it on Repeat
Till it scratches

Cheeks like high school
Like humiliation
With four eyes perching
Not lucky clovers

And eyes glued on
With one glued on wrong

And knees that I'm constantly falling down on
Next page