Mike D 40m


I do not seek out a brighter day
A wish of happiness, no more
Vaulted hope; Cracked safe opened and released
Laughter and cheer walked out the door

Position every window blind shut
Draw the shades so none shall see
Must keep sunshine’s heavenly rays locked out
And preserve this perfect misery


Written: March 16, 2018

All Rights Reserved
And yet I’m not
And yet I’m held
And yet I have love poured on me
But light shines on me
With so many doors I could open
When I have so many to face
But not devoid of lust
But not functioning
But bursting with words
But still filled with flesh
Even when we are surrounded by people we can still feel alone and empty
Haley Tyler Mar 1
I dare you to peel away my skin,
dig in my flesh and pull me out
of this goddamn shell I’m in.
Leave me raw and pink,
A sunburn from your soul,
that righteous light, the missing link.
Fill a hollow heart that doesn’t beat
but you’ll find in a corpse,
it just won’t keep
I was pronounced dead on arrival | h.t
Lux Falls Feb 25
The darkness warms me
A thick liquid covering my skin
engulfing every pore
Drowning all of my sins.

I couldn’t tell you what wings feel like
Or what a smile does to my face
I did it once and it felt foreign
But the wind swept it away
To float off as particles into the sky.

I laughed, it might have been yesterday
or a season ago
It didn’t penetrate into my soul
Nor did it let me inhale any pure light
Humans find it addictive
That bright drug.
mrc Feb 20
i knew that something was going to happen
because i could heart the bees swarming and
buzzing inside the hollow place in your chest
(which only you believed to be hollow)
there was a restless energy about you last august
you could see it and smell it and hear it
i even tasted it in that vegan pizza you made for us
i felt a push coming, and i was hoping that it
would finally move the negative thoughts and
feelings that clung to you like a shrouded mist
but it was me that you pushed away in the end,
with the might that you'd been building up for years
it was me, and i wish i'd realized that before
i gave whatever was left of me to you
praying that it would somehow be like a rope
you could grab on to, so i could save you from
the pit of your despair
but you never wanted saving
and you never told me that
the shadows of your soul
are what I love the most,
the places you call cold
are my refuge from the ghosts

your bones make hollow sounds
when they brush against my skin
your heart could not be found
but I felt it deep within

the light had left your eyes,
you couldn't see my face,
but I saw the fire inside
illuminate the darkest place
another reylo-ish goody for my lovelies on HP, enjoy!
A knife swims in the eery air
bursting down
smearing the few fawn
crooked'em crotales
springing drops of meltdown sun
God hollows
and shadow balloting follows
smc Feb 13
He flings her boots at her, and she watches in slow motion as they land, spraying dust and dirt from the barn. She had, earlier that week, worn those boots as she sang to the horses to calm her mind on a sleepless night. Promises shattered, she scrambles to pick up her boots, losing him and the horses, her only place of solace. Hope is gone. Her ears ring with his words, a broken record, only days earlier: “Come on home, honey.”

She had unearthed a fossil...

A slight bump, pearly white, attracts her eye. As she slowly brushes the dirt off the surface, she sees the bones: the hollow, dull eye sockets, disturbing jut of a dislocated jaw, gaping mouth. She notices how deep it is buried--the tip of an iceberg. Then, just as she puts her brush down to look closer, the wind, a whispered warning, stirs a cloud of dirt that settles over the remains, filling the holes and smoothing the jagged edges. In an instant, she forgets, consciously choosing to disregard those feelings of disturbance. She picks up her brush and hesitates, torn between logic and temptation. Compelled, entranced, she gingerly touches the bristles to the dirt. Maybe it won't be ugly this time; perhaps it wasn't as disturbing as she thought. She could have made it up--just her mind playing tricks on her. If she trusts her hesitation, though, she foregoes the excitement of discovery. But she has already seen what lies beneath. A glimpse should have been enough.

She cannot look away. Hesitation is devoured by anxiety; compulsion grows stronger, takes control. And she lets it.  She sweeps the bristles slowly at first then picks up speed, furiously sweeping away the earth. She should have trusted that tug of hesitation, should have left the brush and walked away. She didn't want to see it; she looked anyway. The image, horrifying, discolors her own skin to match the gray of the bones. Frozen, petrified, she watches worms slither through cracks in the skull. The head is twisted and detached, unnaturally askew. The ribs are shattered, by knife or gunshot, where the heart once was.

She punishes herself. Self-loathing swells and festers as she resentfully reflects on her choice to dispel her better judgment. She avoids mirrors, afraid to see skin that remains gray. The horrifying truth of what she chose to uncover disturbs her dreams.

I awake, coughing, disoriented, clothes adhered to skin by cold sweat. Anxious, hollowed, robotic, I reach for a cigarette.
from "The Story of Ky" by smc
smc Feb 13
I miss you, too
blinks on the screen

do you remember me?
can you tell me how you can
read the words of a desperate heart
and choose to respond with
n o t h i n g....
do you remember?
two weeks, it's been.
did you lose a connection

what prompts you
to keep tugging
on a frayed string
       that used to
be strong
    and shiny
               and blue
"like your beautiful eyes"

through the sticky mud
and the unsettled puddles
from acid rain
that keeps
the longest month of the year, 28 total days. february
ellie anaïs Feb 10
After suppressing pain and keeping tears at bay over a million times, you learn how to lean towards numbness all because being hollow is ultimately better than overflowing with mayhem.

At first, you try to convince yourself you’re numb. In the long run, you’d no longer be a novice in this game. You’d learn to walk amidst the flames.

But darling, this isn’t strength; this is me coping, lonesome and alone.

Darling, this isn’t strength; this is ignorance well-meant, this is appearing whole when deep inside I'm disintegrating, this is me trying not to fall apart in your presence because I don’t know if you’d have the guts, or the conscience, to pick broken pieces up knowing that the shards could very well hurt you too.

Darling, this isn’t strength, so don’t put your faith in an empty cause. Spare yourself and say goodbye, and I’d give you my last farewell.

I’d rather we make amends before we part ways rather than just breaking away without breaking even.
you won't weep anymore when you're out of tears
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