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sammy Apr 2018
his slender fingers reach
for the nape of my neck
I think he’s leaning in for a hug
but his hands rest comfortably
around my throat
tight and snug
my circulation slows
his sharp nails are digging into my skin
my hands are too weak to contest him,
the blood draining from my veins.
he pushes me up on the wall and grins
as I’m left to thrash against his grip and charm
the static drums loud and clear behind my ears
“really, darlin’, what’s the harm?”
inhaling my scent, filled with fear
his voice is just above a purr
I can’t believe I’m choking,
but I can’t believe he’s here.
his hold slacks, and I can whisper
“but I love you…”
a playful smirk is plastered on his face
and he licks his lips, murmuring
“you smell sweet…”
before diving in for the ****
he kisses me, hard and rough
last bits of air dwindling
and I am left
breathless
written in 2014
Priya Gaikwad Apr 2018
Picture him: He’s gorgeous, thin, tall, and fair, has soft hair; his soft hair falls on his mischievous eyes. He has a pointed nose which makes him look evil. He only wears black which is his favorite color. Oh, you must see him in black; it makes him look like a mesmerizing poem. Imagine him, just close your eyes and imagine him wearing a black, long leather jacket. His eyes are only on you. When he looks at you, your insides churn and you wanna do the unspeakable things with him. He moves closer to you, smiles, oh that smile, which will make the devil weak in the knees. He is a bad, bad boy you always wanted. He touches you setting your body on fire and slowly gets the knife out to slit your throat.
Frances Marie Apr 2018
Finally, tears were shed.
There was a heart that bled.
An able body that could not be held.
Calling out to the silence; cold.
Shaking a hollow breath.
There I lay beneath.
Your feet raised to step over me once more.
I can't bare the pain in my core.

No longer do I feel my life is mine.
I don't feel like myself anymore. He took that away from me. The fear I constantly have feels like I can't reach out.
Alan S Bailey Mar 2018
All of the sparkle and sweet
And joy in the world is like
Any pain killer,
It's wrapped around all of
The endless misery and fear,
But still it's no way out for life,
Empty space filler.
Cory Williams Mar 2018
Three stories tall, and a city block wide
I created this castle with no place to hide
"The World's Fair Hotel", you might know it well
Located in Englewood, my own private Hell.

I hired and fired through its construction
To fully ensure only I knew its power of destruction.

Once it was built, I hired employees
Female and blonde, my favorites of playthings
Under conditions of insurance policies
Of which I would pay (but I was also the beneficiary)

Soundproof suites so sweet to my ears
With gas lines to asphyxiate you - Drowning in fears
Or my secret hanging chamber
And lime pits to change you from human to stranger

I took pride in stripping you to bone and sold you to medical schools, made professors seem fools, all of you dead and alive at my disposal

All in all, 200 was the proposal, I confessed to 27 and later to 2...my dying wish is that I could have done it to you.
Mubarad Salaeh Mar 2018
The sun goes down
And the wind gently flaunts.
I was hiding behind a mysterious mirror,
where I looked at myself as a stranger

Much inquires like questions in my body,
Should I run out of this world,
And reconcile the past?
To stab the knife in a soul of misspent youth
where blood goes blue, that’s what I hoped for
A freezing corpse without a breath
weeping like an unborn child

The mirror I hid behind,
Revealed the truth I have to say.
My soul does not belong to me,
But God is the owner of all

If you were afraid of the day of judgment
I would **** you without concern
God would not punish me,
The killer was the mirage inside mirror
Mirza Lazim Mar 2018
In the middle of blurry senses
within indefinite tenses,
You can find me
thriving beneath your glow.
Sometimes
your shine will blind me.
In return,
sincerely holding your hand
and following your vivacious voice
that I am aching for,
I will take you to places
you haven't ever been
even once before.
As a sightless poet,
flying through all hinders
I will lead you to heaven,
a journey of senses,
lands of eternity in endless art,
I will cover you with my heart
from any dangers to protect
and I will make you the perfect,
the precious woman
of nihilistic poetry!
Becoming aware
of the magnificent healer
In suspense and in a stew
all poets will ask:
Who is that persona - the nihilist-killer?!
Nazanin Feb 2018
My wrist was red
And my neck was blue
You were my favorite killer
And i would die for you
Now the wrists have healed
As new scars grew
And the time never heals
What i've been through.
This poem is dead.
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