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Dark Delusion Sep 2017
You mugged my heart in the worst way,
You hurt me more than I ever could myself.

You stabbed me with words,
Leaving me silenced.

You made me beg on my knees,
Humiliating me all over again.

But I still forgive you,
By coming back.

I got played by your lies,
Pursuing me with your intentions.

Tracking down my weakest spot,
Taking advantage of my brand new emotion.

You make me mad for your touch.
But most of all, you make me want to die.

I’ve now stopped caring,
Just like the way you never cared.

You keep coming back with you excuses,
But this time you won’t leave with my heart again.

I slammed the door to my heart shut,
I locked it by carrying on.

The past I’ll never forget,
And the future I’ll never let you ruin.

I still can’t forget the scars you’ve given me,
So I’m regretting never hurting you.

You left me alone all the time,
And now I’m never staying.
RN Sep 2017
I'm healthy but it feels like i'm dying
No one died, how the fck i'm crying?
Maybe its time to say goodbye in this feeling
I love you but i wanna forget this love thing

Tell me how can i unloved you
If loving you is all i wanna do
Tell me how can i forget you
If for me you're my number one crew

F
ck! I can't really bear this pain
Like there's a poison in my veins
Slowly, it keeps getting me insane
I can't pull you out in this mother f*cking brain

Bang! Bang! That's the sound i wanna hear
If i'll gonna die tonight, i have no fear
This life is meaningless if you're not here
You'll gonna regret it cause every night i'll gonna make you scream
I love you but you don't love me.
Dark Delusion Sep 2017
Am I confused, or am I just going insane?
The poverty I am saddest about
( his shoutings about politics )

…..he read that online
mine poetry about this poverty
the stupidity started scolding me
declared instantly me-moi as its enemy
its words, so absurds
a lunatic so terrific

not its area nor its section
I oft write in Dutch and this is mine declaration

I do now one step lower
From “it” I step a bit lower down to “his”
his profession does not read poetry
but he thought he could read
poetry poesy and poems

true very pity
not his art nor his profession
he meddles in everything
mine poetic wings, not his thing
(contin.on Part 2)

© Sylvia Frances Chan
Copyright Protected
This poem consists of three parts. This is Part One. True occurrence.
An ordinary admirer becomes an insane stalker, unstoppable.
I THOUGHT he was kindest, but I was mistaken
Sunday 3rd Sept 2017 @ 8.19 hrs AM West-European Time
Viseract Aug 2017
I'm not a sheep amongst the flock but a wolf amongst the sheep
Not a carcass left to rot but the butcher slicing meat
Because someone gotta survive, and its gonna be me
You can pull the wool over my eyes but you'll end up losing sleep

See you can lie to my face but i can sniff out the truth
Not everybody's buying *******, we are wiser than our youth
I may have a young face but my soul is in pursuit
Of old age, divine space, that's ruthlessness for you

See my stamina is boundless and i have that pack mentality
I can toggle between the two, loyalty or reality
You can make all these promises, but you cant promise me
That you're not another poser because you reek of it to me

Imma howl at the stars just to keep you awake
Outside growling at your window just to drive you insane
Because you messed with a wolf and thats a fatal mistake
Now I'm putting pen to paper just to put you in your place

You, dont know what you're in for
You, aren't getting away
You, are already falling
And now, in your head, I'm here to stay

You, me, crazy
You, me, crazy
You, me, crazy
You dont know what you're in for, and now you're going crazy

The possibilities are endless like the power of Infinity
You stop dead in your tracks like you just had an epiphany
You can't lose the trail when i **** my head, listening
Your voice trembles with fear and I'm feasting on the signaling

Your muscles race with adrenaline, a system overdrive
To face what you can't see admist the shadows of the night
All your senses quickening, preparing for the fight
Because you're in the corner now and there's nowhere left to hide

Hands shake, an earthquake, i hear the drumming of your heart
Jesus Christ, any faster and it could tear you apart
An explosion from the inside, you glow in the dark
From the heat that you expel like the embers of a dart

Eyes wide, pupils large you know this is your fate
Wishing you could go back but you know that it's too late
You meddled with a wolf and now you're filled with doubt
Things are getting serious: head down, claws out

You, don't know what you're in for
You, aren't getting away
You, are already falling
Check under your bed because the monster's here to stay

There's so much left to do,
And so little time,
With nothing left to lose
It's time to set things right

You can't play, Chinese Whispers
With me, because, I hear everything

You, don't know what you're in for...

You, me, crazy
You, me, crazy
You, me, crazy
I've got so much in store, enough to drive you crazy

You, me, crazy
You, look, wasted
You, me, insanity
You don't know what you're in for, and now you're going crazy
just a song i wrote for an EP
Dark Delusion Aug 2017
Everytime I try to think of someone else,
Everything just blurs and goes blank for a long time.
I’m beginning to lose my mind because of you.
You're driving my whole world insane.

You bought my heart for a thousand smiles.
You never left me to be forgotten.
I gave you my body, my everything.
And now you stole my mind.

I’m sticking needles inside my skin,
Just to forget you.
The nightmares are pretending to be you,
Pulling me deeper down.

The illusions, hallucinations.
They exist because of you,
Never leaving me alone.
Always drugging me,
Making me eager for your love.

They’re drinking my soul,
Feeding off of my negativity.
Pressuring me to think more,
Making me the petty victim here.

They’re forcing me to drink,
They’re getting me drunk from my habits.
They’re making homemade guilt,
Forcing it down my throat.

Making me delusional,
I can't see through right and wrong.
They want me to believe I did it,
And they know they’re gonna succes.

They’re inflicting damage to my reality,
They’re brainwashing me, ******* everything out.
They change me, they’ve changed me.
They’ve destroyed me.

You’re my only desire for freedom,
You’re my opportunity to get away from it all.
You’re the only one I would remember,
If my life should disappear.

I’m only a doll, a machine for a greedy heart.
I’m ill, im psychotic.
I see things, I hear things.
And I know it, but i still believe every single thing.

I never did see the murderous intent
Of the expression in my eyes.
I avoided mirrors to flee from the sickening thoughts.
But things stand clearer now.

You wanted to walk away,
So I caught you.
And broke open your body,
To devour your life. I wanted you all to myself,
I wanted to treasure you forever.

I exist because of you,
And now I endure responsibilities of my crazy mistake.
Nothing’s false, nothing’s true.
They’ve taken everything there is to take.
Francis Rowell Aug 2017
“And to his surprise, there were butterflies coming out of his mouth.”

--- --- --- ---

Quite literally, nothing is literal. Everything is a grain of salt in itself, and therefore no matter what we do or say or read or hear or exist, we all die of sodium poisoning. Is that a possible thing to do? Can we live, breathe, exist even if we ourselves are but a single grain of salt to be taken with other infinite grains of salt? Can a grain of salt itself die in general, let alone die of sodium poisoning?

Ah, sand, then? No, that can’t be any better. What about sugar? Absolutely not. What is everything, then, if not a grain of salt to be taken with another grain of salt, and another, and another?

An extended metaphor, maybe. How many grains of salt does it even take to create an extended metaphor, though? How does one measure such a strange volume? Would the measurements even be cubic? Volume? Area? What does an extended metaphor look like? A paragraph, I suppose, so that would be area. But how big would this paragraph be? Average? How big is the average paragraph, and how would anyone ever count the endless amount of paragraphs being written everywhere and everywhen? Further research is required.

I find myself wishing much more than I ever have, or ever should, that there existed any kind of salt-to-paragraphs conversion chart.
If I could, I would. But I can't, and never will. "Que sera sera," Said I, with my head hanging and my eyes holding back a storm. "Que sera sera."
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