And everything will crumble
In the walls of my mind
In the halls of my inner eye
As we bleed out
Perhaps you'll see
How beautiful you are
Compared to everything
You're beautiful to me, and that is the least important part.
One by one we fade to black
petals falling from a cheap bouquet
we're gone too soon it seems
victims of the black parade
a field of roses a shallow grave
This is actually a poem written for a novel series I'm working on!
in my mind
all i really
was mind enough
to say no...
as i had knelt...
and as i had pleaded..
all i could ask for
and all i could say
was thank you
for all the venom---
a little bit sad
ask for more...
sating myself more and more in this
scrumptouos feast of more and more
and with every single mouthful
i take in
my appetite begs for more and more
i am a wolf.
the lowest of the low
in a tripartite soul.
and i can't help
but fill myself up
no matter how much
i weigh myself down.
i just want more.
more of bullets
for every single word you say
more of icicles
for every single awkward touch
more of daggers
for every single glare you look me
more of poison
for every single lie you make me swallow
forcefully down my own throat saying
that you've always been true
more of you...
for every single night i waste
away lying wide awake lying
to myself about not regretting
every sound i taught, trained
my tongue to incarcerate until
you were no longer there to listen
more of flames.
the feeling i get whenever you
quench my burning aching hunger.
more of flames
that blazing glimmer i become
when everyone looks at all my
scars with disappointment.
i want more of flames.
and i just want to burn it all down
along with you.
i'd happily engulf myself
on all our
knowing that no one will ever
knowingly share anything else with me...
let me bask
at least one last supper
in the blissful toxin
of our cannibalism
and one last time
we'll cast a miracle and
in the gluttony
of our lustful intersuffering
from the deathly fermentation
of our own flowing blood
we'll never again
have to wake up
with a killer of a hangover tomorrow.
requested by~~ i*** and a****~~ quite difficult actually, i hope i don't disappoint you two :<
anyway, it is not like this is much of an anecdote to my life but this really resonates to me a lot, and honestly i based this on a friend of mine and it really isn't an unusual thing anyway.
ever tried to tell the world to f*c* off? it's kind of hard to do it when you're acting humane and all alone...
anyway, thanks for reading!!! please let me know what you think i could improve on this style on the comments :3
ps. king for a day by ptv rules.
Don't you know how some of us feel sometimes?
Don't you know what some of us do to ourselves sometimes?
No, you don't know, nor would you care
Some of cut, cry, try to **** or all three and more to ourselves
But even if you knew you would just say aloud or flaws,
Criticize our looks,
Or beat us to the ground...
Because that's what the world thinks of people like me
They scoff in disgust of our loves and sexualities
They beat us till we suffer from LIVING
The one thing they WON'T do is,
E N D O U R S U F F E R I N G
"Just leave the goth chic in the back alone."
"I'm. Not. Goth."
"Whatever you re your a FREAK! A ******!"
Then kicks me till I'm on the ground.
All because I just think dying is better, I like black,
and I sing MCR and Panic!
today i listened to music.
not just any music but The music i would call my life
when i was younger.
there i sat,
singing along to songs that made me feel like i'm not underwater again,
sitting here almost 17,
looking out the window thinking "man they were right
when they said your worries now won't matter as much
in a few years".
today i listened to music
and realized i will never be that young, fresh kid
who knew about life at a way too young age.
instagram // @introawake
in the title i'm not really trying to be religious lol ,,, , by "god's eyes" i mean like the eyes of the people i look up to. the eyes that got me through the hard times. idk interpret it your own way if you want
The boy bellows his sound...screams loud
“come one come all the affair is now”
The words the nurse said ring hollow so dead
“Carry on carry on”
For he swears he’ll sleep no more
Night terrors are real and if he survives the fabulous killjoys will suffer greatly...to no ones surprise
To the end with him...dead
Dead he is...have you heard the news
This is how I disappear he says
The sharpest lives and the sharpest wit
He welcomes you in, to a parade he claims will save us from our sins
I don’t know you from Adam
I don’t love you like a house of wolves
In the distance I hear him
He bellows his joy
He tells the injured to carry on carry on
I hate his voice
His blackened eyes his cancerous sores
Mama says sleep teenage boy
Disenchanted from his famous last words
To carry on carry on
Blood on all the walls
**** all your friends
Heaven help us
My way home is through you
You fabulous killjoys
The black parade
ART IS THE WEAPON
Your imagination is the ammunition
Stay *****, and stay dangerous
Create and Destroy as you see fit
Every heartache breathes the pain that keeps you awake.
There’s nothing left to say when every word wastes away.
This tidal wave of broken dreams crumbles away like waking from a slumber,
incinerating all the lives you touch like an open flame
paying in tears for the anguish you sold.
I hope you remember my heartbreak
And carry the burden of all the broken hearts you made.
To celebrate the release of my book. I'd like to share my favorite poem from the book.
For those interested it can be purchased here: https://www.createspace.com/6452927
we made love under
our own stars,
with our touches
and aligning ourselves
in each others orbits