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Ghost Writer 3 Jun 2016
The room was lit
Seemingly *****
The light was faint
I was unworthy

Ink, drops and drips
The paper sat
Ready for fits
I lashed at it

Lurid was the color
Black was my heart
I scribbled, then lied
this is art

Vague, leaving shade
I left it open
Here, take
This notebook of unspoken.
e.s.
Ghost Writer 3 Jun 2016
Your voice boomed
Through every room
Into the dim halls
The echo was everything
Everything but you

I searched your eyes
You told me to do so
I felt birth that moment
The pain, the blood
I felt the end as it begun

It is all or nothing to you
A furious earthquake
Knocking down every wall
Or nothing, absolutely nothing at all

The nights get shorter
Your hands grow colder
The moments there
And then suddenly,
Into a great abyss
Into a black hole
Everything is older
Even the drugs now
Give me the cold shoulder.

E.s.
Ghost Writer 3 Jun 2016
The weight of the world
Sits on his chest
As he breaths
He grasps for it
Rose petals fall
Straight from his head
As his eyes burn
Like fire, again, and again
Mouth sewed shut
Her needle pokes through
Stippling his heart
Like a car wreck
The moment his hands left
He can't remember
When he lost control
Drunk driving
Into her soul

E.s.
Ghost Writer 3 Jun 2016
The blood
It traces
Every feeling
Known to man

The moment
It stays
Only fleeting
We are dying

Make love
Setting the memories on fire
It's all you have
It's never leaving
Always breathing
Until the last man forgets

e.s.
Scream, for love traps you
In the embrace of barbed wire
Slicing your heart wide open
With blunt, rusted razor blades

So bleed the scarlet icicles
As your soul begins to die
Dark longing surrounds you
Loneliness comes crawling

Does your heart now shatter?
Where no one dares to look
To see blistered tears Etched
On a face masked with fear

But if only you remove your mask
Mayhap the Sun may kiss it
So roses without thorns may grow
Then love could have no pain
Copyright © Chris Smith 2014
Ghost Writer 3 May 2016
I can see the waves crash
Before they hit
I can see the rain hit the pavement
Before the sky falls

I see the darkened room
While your gleaming smile
Still looks like you

Yet somehow I was still suprised,
When it all came crashing down.


E.s.
Ghost Writer 3 May 2016
I want to disappear
body turning into thin a.i.r

away
invisible
rain

Opened up, spoke words
they were broken though
as you step on them

trapped in a burning house
I was excited
now ashes
we all fall down.

-e.s.
Feggyr Citack Apr 2016
-on a mummy whisperer encouraging an ancient,
   dedicated servant to worship his mistress once again

Come, rise, out of your bandages.
Do not fear her reptile grin,
those dead, cold, killing eyes,
that lacerating tongue.

Watch that glimmer of hope:
the naivety of her simple feet,
those loose phalanges calling for bonds.

Come, kneel, kiss them tender!
Those harmless toes,
that innocence, clumsy and unspoiled.

Now love, hope and fear can make you
find yourself in bandages, again.
Look upward, eyes shut...
Loose yourself in cosmic lights:
her toe tips brightly guide you through the night.
Trevor Blevins Mar 2016
This cathedral was ruined by dust,
Your altar has gone out
And you smell so strongly of the pine trees you rest your head under.

I wish I could bottle you,
Either to have that aroma at my disposal,
Or a shot of you to drown out my hardships.

Each day moves in sequence with great emphasis on the orchards,
Bearing myriad fruits,
Such heavy blossoms in sequence with your arrival.

I'll wish I wouldn't have locked myself away,
Away from the sunlight—
The good sunbeams that grant entrance into life,
Spending all my time lamenting for the world around me.

Seems like no time to feel love now,
Only time to cry for the love I let go to waste.
K Balachandran Feb 2016
Once a professed good kid
Suskind in his native
German he was named,
wrote a macabre tale
on making a special"Perfume"
most irresistible ,enigmatic,
by murdering virgins
in a chilling succession,
and mixing those scents
absorbed in each shroud!
Parents, beware when
you name your children
see, what this good kid
(according to his surname)
to his excited readers did;
pure  Gothic dished out
from beginning to it's explosive end!
"Perfume:story of a murderer"(1985) by German novalist Patrick  Suskind was made in to a film in 2006  by Tom Twkwer
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