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Will you love me still
when my flesh has fallen to rot?
Will you love me
when decay has taken my form,
and fed my flesh
to a grave full of worms?
Or should I slow the
gangrenous bubbling of my skin?
Will you love the ivory perfection
of my bones, sweet one,
so like the grasping branches
of a dead tree...?
Will you still lie by my side,
our flesh rotting together,
the roots of a tree twining through
our ribcages?
Will you still love me,
love me dead?
Lee Carter Oct 2020
Foul, hideous, and horrid
Unfit for natural light.
An image, none as grisly
As the man named Simon White.

Once his heart was broken
So he kept the pieces in a box.
Tethered safely to his hip
With tight chains and key-less locks.

His mind was wont to wander
To clouds too high and skies too far.
So to keep himself grounded down to earth,
He kept his brain inside a jar.

His teeth would never smile.
Traded some and sold the others
Each to an unfamiliar home
Now all without their brothers.

Oh, his tongue was such a bore!
So he minced it to a paste.
He boiled, baked, and seasoned it
Yet still it had no taste.

He grew tired of his eyes
Looking down and looking back
So he took a brush with inked tip
And painted them pitch black.

The shrieks and wails of the passerby
He could not stand to hear.
So he melted a *** of candles
And stuffed the wax in each ear.

His face had done no wrong
But with fear it one day might,
He took a knife and chopped its nose!
Less from prudence and more from spite...
REPOST
AP Vrdoljak Oct 2020
Don’t throw me in the meat locker
It’s dark and cold in there
Don’t cover me up in plastic
For I will have no air

Don’t cut me into pieces
For I’m not yours to sell
Don’t send me in and shut the door
It’s dark and cold as hell
horror is horror’s beauty
horror is horror’s obsession
temptation’s is horror’s beauty
temptation’s is horror’s lust
lust is lust of horror
lust is lust of beauty
beauty is a obsession of horror

beauty is a obsession of lust
a feast of obsession is a feast of horror
a feast of obsession is a feast of beauty
feast is feasting an obsession
lust is a feast of lust
lust is a feast of horror
lust is a feast of beauty

beauty is a inner beauty
beauty is a inner obsession
a inner beauty is a inner obsession
inner is inner of lust
inner is inner of horror
a inner feast is a inner beauty
a inner feast is a inner horror
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc… the meaning of the word “feast” is liked for instance a feast of beauty. the word “feast” does not mean having a meal or eating. this poem is about the feast of horror and feast of beauty. i don’t use capitalization’s on my writing.
Hex Oct 2020
Mosaics scrawled in oak,
Charters to a new dimension,
Candles bring forth grey smoke,
Filling a stygian room with tension.

A hallowed oversoul awaits a sacrament,
Crimson stanzas chanted, a return anticipated,
The King still needs a benighted advocate,
Atonement was made, with a blade of onyx, serrated.

Throughout the hall, a sensation,
First came the scent of velvet nectar,
Then, the impact of consternation,
And all among the walls, dark and unearthly spectres.

An observance had concluded,
As the veil was torn by madness,
And the microcasm, polluted,
A world overthrown, by the abyss.
For an October goal of writing one project every day.
10/6 Theme: Magic
Hex Oct 2020
A spectre scaling up to surface,

To sound a signal in the spirit,

The conscience loses all control,

As air is sequestered by tautened walls,

Oracular theories, traveling through,

Congested sectors, brimming with disarray,

Fictitious pandemonium,

An indomitable condition, unyielding and unruly,

A conflict that clashes, in only one anima,

Chaos reigns in a limitless cycle,

Like a sulling sea, spiking and settling,

The loop never ends, a war with no peace,

A solitary soldier, losing their struggle.
For an October goal of writing one project every day.
10/4 Theme: Panic
Hex Oct 2020
It's gnawing at his bones,
and clawing at his spine,
he knows he's not alone,
but now is not the time.

The woman behind sings,
broken voice brings life like spring,
enlivening his actions,
but stressing her malefaction.

He'd been running for years,
or at least, that's how it felt.
Despite his eyes' red tears,
and skin starting to welt,
his drive had never reared,
but soon, to enervation, he knelt.

He fell into the leaves,
pain stung like blades unsheathed,
now too faint to run,
he peered up to the sun.

Then, the blue turned black,
he heard a familiar chime,
he knew, his lover was back.
She heaved her axe one time...

He still lies in the leaves,
no more cries or screams,
he speaks only silence now,
in a place that won't be found.
For an October project to write one project every day.
10/3 Theme: Fatigue
EP Robles Oct 2020
Jason had this penthouse apartment that was centrally located in Beverly Hills.

He was incredibly clean, but in an overwhelming kind of way.

The carpet and stuff were spotless, the cabinets were plastic, and the paint was not chipping. I felt like I was in a Doctor’s office waiting room.

He was snoring loudly, and just at the right moment he opened his eyes.

"Ha! You are dead! This is a dream, right?"

I felt a bit offended, as I was obviously the one snoring.

"No, no!"  He pointed at the clock. "It's 4AM!" (Lucky number 8!).

"You're a zombie! You're dead and you're dreaming!”

“I’m a zombie, alright!" I yawned and started to hack up zombie gore.

"Watch out!" He screamed and jumped out of the bed.

"All right, you monster! I'm dead and I'm dreaming! I'm dead and I'm dreaming!"

He chased me around the room.

"You're not dead, you're a zombie! You're a zombie, that's just what you are, a zombie, so it's a dream!" He threw up his hands. "You can't win!"

“I can't win, yeah? That’s right, I can't win. That's my luck, ha-ha!”

I hope you like midnight horror flicks." His face crinkled with confusion; the zombies smile that I was always afraid of flashing on.
"Well I didn't say I was a horror movie person. Oh, that's right, but you said, I'm dead and I'm dreaming, so that's a horror movie, right?"
I thought about it.

"Okay, I guess it's more like...like if a zombie comes to my door..."

:: 09.24.2020 ::
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