I hate her.
I hate her with all my heart I can’t stand
To see her face it makes me cringe
Every time she walks my
Fingers want desperately to curl around
Her neck and just
Feel her pulse against my palm as she
Starts to faint and lose her breath she
Begins to cry and I can’t help but smile
Seeing me hurt her just as much as
She hurt me with a knife to my back
Bullshit if you think i’ll just
Forgive you after you
Act like such a fucking whore and
Break your promise i squeeze
Harder and harder, my grasp
Around her neck gaining strength as
Anger fills my veins, the thick red paint of
Pure hatred fuels my heart and my head
Gives me only one single command that
Makes me laugh out loud
I am insanely intoxicated with a
Deep paroxysm and I cannot
Stop myself from laughing so giddily
I am smiling as the life fades from her eyes
And my fingers begin to lose their tight grip
And my laughter begins slacken
And my head begins to rid itself of the dark cloud
That once consumed my entire being
And i look at the whore i have asphyxiated
And i smile
I am happy
I am at peace.

Scarlet Keiller Apr 20

Hatred turns my mind to liquid
and it seeps through your fingers, clumps
pouring down the drain,
punishing me for ever believing
in something other than the crippling
nothingness that haunts my horizons. Sudden
emptiness is brooding over me,
soaking me, and
soaking I am. I think I'm going to die here.

~~ Acrostics are harder than I thought they would be. ~~
geeqii Apr 20

You've won.
Successfully ruling my mind
Preoccupying my time
Rewinding, this space I live in.

Old thoughts
Constantly re-found.
Re-hashed, what a sick blend.

Similar memories
Getting the best of me.
As I find nothing of value.
Only used temptations
Bending toward aggravation.

With this
Single expression
Tells the story of my current state.
Written blankly upon my face.
It's obvious, of course, my hatred toward you.
You crooked tooth'd devil you.

Thigh high boots.
Cruel rules.

..How foolish I was.

Disheveled, I'll go.
Spiraling forward.
Toward my willed interaction with you.
Just a reflection of separate truths.
One Evil.
One Good.

Angie S Apr 19

I felt a soft pulse under a young boy’s
neck within my grotesque hands,
felt his breath escape his lungs like
a frightened snake in burning sands,
watched his eyes frantically search for a savior
but instead find my vile complexion.
My heart swelled with revenge against this
world that only resents me and yet
his shrill screams against the thunder,
the lightning outlining his still silhouette--
he was innocent, this I always remember.
I don’t deserve the pleasure of this hatred.

My next sin I committed against a cheerful man,
a sightseer in a beautiful, foreign land;
I closed my gruesome grip around his slender throat
and left him sleeping forever on the sand
under the luminous moon with his heart still, yet full of love;
how jealous I felt that he should die
and have someone to grieve for him, while I’m reprimanded
for living, or rather, simply existing,

My final mark I left as charcoal fingerprints
on the sweet skin of a new bride.
I instilled fright into her perfect wedding night
and, before a lake’s gentle rolling waves,
behind the watchful Jekyll to my vengeful Hyde, I
stole her life.

Her groom, a bright, scientific architect,
thought his monument a magnificent, malicious failure.
In his eyes, I am a virus upon the Earth’s body,
a hideous figure copied not in God’s image, but in the devil’s.
I should have known I’d always be alone
as my creator wishes I weren’t his own.
Doctor Victor Frankenstein, I hate every damn
inch of your perfect human frame, and I hate
the imperfections you’ve bestowed upon me.
I swear, I will reciprocate these bitter blessings
you have given me, and when I’ve ended you
once and for all,
only then can I rest;
I have nobody to love,
but I’ve got nothing to lose.

spoken word persona. i'm going to perform this piece this coming friday! :D i'm so excited. we're also selling a copy of our school literary and art magazine, which i was sooo excited to be an editor for... it looks great. things are looking up!
KM Ramsey Apr 18

i'm the monster hiding under my bed
lurking just below the placid
surface of my own personal Loch Ness
and praying that i remain
a legend of the local townspeople
masquerading as those who
call me friend and lover
those perfectly content to take in
my slow crumbling facade
and name it history
roman roads meandering across
my features the ruts of those
early onset wrinkles which
threaten to out me
to scream out my sickness
a diagnosis of malevolence
hiding in my tightly wound double
helices the ladders i climb
as though there were salvation waiting
at the top
though Sisyphus would understand
my plight but more so
comprehend my incessant pursuit
of a false flag promise of

but i can't escape the prison of my skin
my identity the crystal lattice of
epidermis holding in
the supernova of destruction and death
the famine after my insatiable need
consumes all nourishment for
i'm too much
too much need
much too much malignancy
spreading like a cancerous mass
consuming and metabolizing all that
is good and innocent.

do not extend to me
your tendrils of sympathy
of compassion
look upon me as the condemned
war criminal on the stand and
the Hague chilled to immobility by
the tales of my horror.

put me to death and think no more
of the fallacy i perpetuated
for decades spent offering
silent pleas for intercession and yet
unable to ever escape my transgressions
which live below the surface
in the deepest parts of me
intricately woven into those essential
parts of myself
a tumor grown into my heart
too close to the life-sustaining
machinery for any to dare extraction.

but i could kill every part of me
and one day i will
as i pay and pay my way to salvation
clad in sack cloth and my feet bare
praying for smoldering coals to
traverse searching for pain
pain to wash me clean
pain to fill the need for punishment
because i've learned that even
punishment which provides no
gives me the appearance of at least
seeking that which
i know i'll never have.

and after all these years
do i really want it at all?
would i forego any more pain?
could i even believe that i
have been forgiven?
that my slate had truly been
wiped clean?

even if everyone watched me
be washed back to infantile innocence
i would still know
my inner stain spread through my
entrails like some perverse
Rorschach test for reading by an
oracle who could proclaim
after my death
that the beast had been slain and
now they welcome the eternal
kingdom of god.

but do not call me martyr.

do not send pilgrims to my grave
do not consign me to Apocrypha
do not dilute
or contaminate the
sacrosanct of some
even if i always believe it was
superstitious bullshit.

they believe it to be real
to be holy
and myself the human stain should
never be near.

burn my bones and burn them again
grind them to dust and jettison them
to the remotest ends of the earth
where no foot treads
and my disease might not spread.

i flay the skin off my own bones
so no one else must.

do not touch me

leperous disaster
harbinger of the end of all things.

let me starve and rot
the putrid scent of my decay
finally dissolving the mask
and in my death i can't even
lower my face
dead eyes can't look away
but you couldn't know
that's how they've always looked.

letters from the leper colony
Dhaara T Apr 17

I don't speak for or against
Except that I do speak
For humanity, against violence
If you...pick up that blob of attack
Smother it with vengeance
and throw; then run...and run as fast as you can
Because it will come back
As a bigger, nastier blob
Run, but a hiding place you won't find
How can you run from hatred?
When it has sunk into your very bones
Do you see it in the mirror each day?
It is eating up your soul
How can you live in peace?
With so much ugliness creepily creeping up
How low can you stoop? Another hit will tell
Why can't you control the bad
If it is really so, through good?
What's the difference then, between you and them?
You kill innocents in the process too
Then you too, must be a terrorist, dear government, isn't that true?

I wish we all could just I-hate-you-but-let's-just-chill. Where are you, Utopia? :(

I drank half as much booze
I saw half as many whores
I used half as many drugs
I wasted half as much money,
But I still had
Just as much hate,
And I remained
Just as dumb.

April Dolan Apr 15

The days are endless
and the pain is permenant
The nights are watching the fan dance on the ceiling
and the tears are flowing

It all started when they poured the anger and the sadness
into my heart
I couldn't tell them to stop, I couldn't do a thing

& it turns out, it was actually cement

And thats when you came along
right there, at the perfect moment,
to walk all over me,
and now my heart bleeds your footprints

& thats the thing about cement
once it hardens
it takes years and constant strength to
if your lucky.

They tell me
I should be okay
That what they did
shouldn't hurt me in the slightest

Then they tell me my thoughts
are wrongful,
that I should just move on
but I can't grasp what they mean
all I want is someone to drill my
cemented heart to smithereens
then, maybe, I'll be able to sleep again

& maybe I'll be able to feel
that heartbeat
the one they say, makes you a free spirit

For now the endless days carry on
and I'm stuck with a cemented heart
that just won't break.

Scarlet Keiller Apr 13

The echoing sound of shattering
which you heard
so softly in the distance
was the sound of me
trying to break myself.

~~ Stop fixing me. ~~~
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