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ick
i pull my eyeball out of my socket
or perhaps,
i remove my socket from my eyeball
the moon is howling
the wind is shining
i grin a grin of blood and ... joy?
eyeball in hand,
or was it the socket?
maybe it's the hand in my eyeball
either way
i take a step towards the water
i feel it lapping at my ankles
i lie down face first
the water breathes me in and
we float
in that uterine comfort we once knew
when I open my eye/socket/hand
i see that i am in a tank
the light refracts across the water
gliding
i worm my way to the base of the tank and i
                                                                                          push
my body is too heavy
i reach between my legs
and
pull out my guts
they slither away into the dark abyss
i close my eye/socket/hand
i sleep
i've been dissociating a lot lately and this is my attempt at explaining what it feels like.
Gray Dawson Oct 23
Intestines twisted into a bow
Skeleton, no skin, all bone
Chased into a grave
By someone "brave"

Head cut off, and hung at the hips
Mouth sewn shut, wires in the lips
Promised a voice
In a place of just "noise"

Ears forced down into the pharnyx
Tongue cut off, and swallowed
Chained to the dark
Left with a "spark"

Wasabi poured into each eye
Needles poked into the iris, to dry
Breathing fractured breaths
In the times of "stress"

Fingers shredded in blenders
Toes were sold by the vendors
Broke the rules
To be reduced to mere "molecules"

Heart frozen in ice
Lungs cracked in slices with a knife
Crawling towards a light
Dipped in "fright"

Genitalia, mutilated
Thighs and chest burned til it was disseminated  
Walking into the darkness
Trying to reach the "conconscious"

Frigida glacies
Cece Apr 5
Black roses grow
where you once stood in my heart.
Their thorns rip me apart,
cover me in dripping, glistening blood,
but they're
more beautiful than you.

They hurt me with full intention to,
not like your ignorance.
They may **** me
but I don't care,
You beat me down this far,
now I'm way past getting up,
so I'd like to die selfishly,
more beautiful than you.
caution this bad ***** is gory lol
Cece Jan 16
Black roses grow
where you once stood in my heart.
Their thorns rip me apart,
cover me in dripping, glistening blood,
but they're
more beautiful than you.

They hurt me with full intention to,
not like your ignorance.
They may **** me
but I don't care.
You beat me down this far already,
and now I'm way past getting up,
so I'd like to die selfishly,
more beautiful than you.
caution this bad ***** is gory lol
mer Jan 4
spinning
falling
out of control

blurry vision
quick decisions
no logic

painful cuts
with silver blades
searing pain

glazed eyes
dull hearts
brains on fire

never ending
thoughts
and anxiety

"better off dead"
said the ones
like us

before they took the gun
blade
pills

and
became
nothing
mer Jan 4
She climbed like fire
from the cold claws--
"Not today," she said
Shaking her head.

It came back,
gnawing at her skin
Picking at her head
"No!" she yelled.

It crept up again
Its shivery smile deceiving
She met its eyes
And sighed, before walking away.

But it stuck with her.
Pleasant, yet sickening.
Beautiful but disgusting--
She stopped.

Looked over her shoulder;
It was still there,
Its red gleaming eyes full
of knowing evil.

Her eyes turned the color of fire
She touched its scales
Stroked its flesh
Eyes full of forbidden wonder.

She took a blade, in her pocket,
And looked at her wrists.
The blue rivers of gushing red
Intrigued her.

It noticed how easy she was
To control;
It hissed in her ear
And told her "Yes!"

That was all she needed--
She became one with it
When she sliced open her arm
And became slowly absorbed.

Soon she was gone
With the blue rivers,
Carried away by lies
And deceived by evil.
Sara Kellie Dec 2018
Could I have your shoulder
when I need to cry
and not be worried
when I can't say why?

Would you offer your hand
when I am ill,
feel weak
and cannot stand?

Would you lend me your ear
when I am troubled,
worried and shaking
with fear?

Will you offer me your arm
when I'm upset
or shaken
and make me feel calm?

Would you ever suspect me
of collecting
body parts
and call the police?

Poetry by Kaydee.
Twisted poetry by
the twisted poet.
Quotedbykayla Dec 2018
Yearned is thy cheerfulness to wax
a particle within thee,
however,
stuck be not
Quotedbykayla Dec 2018
She sharpened blades,
turning her head as she engraved
thou blistered name
into her delicate flesh
Quotedbykayla Dec 2018
Multitudinous battles,
Inhibiting every single darted tear dying to transpire
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