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I sometimes find my mind wandering
Remembering the good old days

Use by date seen better days
No use to man nor beast

Better days are no more, there’s clawing at the door
The door inside your head

It rhymes with dead does head
It also rhymes with shed, which is apt

As that’s where he put my head
© JLB
15/11/2024
04:16 GMT
Come far away, come fly away.
It’s another day in the sun.  

don’t know where to go, just followin the road
running won’t change our fate.
where does the highway go to die ?

We’re too far now
I feel the breath of a gun on my neck
I can already feel the crows staring to peck
all we can do is wait till they come.

Come far away, come fly away.
another day in the sun.

waiting for the crows to come
Time to face what we have done
there’s nowhere left to run.  
How long stands between us and a shot gun.

Come far away, come fly away.
It’s another day in the sun.
Till the crows come.
Karma Nov 7
No longer of use,
The static colliding,
The past in recluse
In the attic, residing

Colors rot in the dust
Pictures die in the silence,
As corpses make fust
And complain under pileus.

The mycelium harvest,
In boredom, they thrive.
And much like the artist
Through flesh, their roots rive.

A place where ghosts and ghoul like to screech,
A place where even the flies couldn’t reach.
Lena Sep 26
Everything rots, doesn’t it?
Watch with me, dear reader
This petal falls from the rose
Your body starts to decompose

Another petal falls
Maggots burrow into your brain
A Panther tears open your chest
All of your organs are devoured hastily
Not to be put to waste

A third petal is blown by the wind
Your skin starts to peel
revealing marvelously white bone
a small sprout grows up through
the ribs and shows itself to the sun

The fifth and sixth petals fall together
The rain brings forth a flood
washing away the dirt and leaves
only your skeleton left behind

A curious dog takes your femur as
the seventh petal falls
You are rudely moved from
the forest floor to a dark room
They give you a name

The eighth petal falls
They put you in a box
The sun no longer shines on the sprout
and it too wilts
cries of people
surround you as you are then
dropped into your grave

The rose decomposes,
just like you.
The box doesn't last long
And your bones finally
are given a rest
As they crumble into dust

Dear reader, you see,
Everyone rots.
Heavily inspired by 'Amanda the Adventurer' and her monologue on how everything rots.
Her smile lays upon my glassed eyes
The replaced I was, I cried
She smiles with an evil grin
The fate of my sister she did spin

Now I am the second choice
She’s left to rot, echoes her voice
The next best thing to come to her
Guess I am just here for a leftover
Wrote this for a daily writing prompt *****. Please the tags look sweet home Alabama <\3
I did it
I finally did it
And I don't regret it!
I killed him
with my own hands
Let him bleed out on the floor
Gutted by the blade of the knife I held in my hands.
I can still hear his screams
His terror
His agony
as the sharp metal pierced his flesh.
I laughed at her agony
Enjoyed his screams,
Rejoiced in the fear I caused him,
the same one he caused me for years
Trapped me in his world of terror
giving me no respite.
A smug smile took shape on my face
as I thought back and observed my masterpiece.
The helpless body of a man
who didn't deserve forgiveness
who didn't deserve to live.
So yes, I did, gentlemen
And as I said
I do not regret it.

I have nothing more to add, your honor.


"Confession of ****** --------- ------- -----------. The case is considered closed."
Xan Aug 31
I said 'I love you'
To you
Not anyone else

I'd lie
Rob
Leave
Block
Just do ANYTHING

All for you
You and you only
But when you leave..
Leave me

I'm gone
Your my everything
Your my world
I must've been a fool..
To believe you bluff

It stung, dear
It stung as if glass
Were in my eyes
My skin
My organs

I was so attached
So blind and foolish to not see it
See your lies
Alexis K Apr 20
Sick indeed.
But a fantasy it would be.

Follow me home...
Rip my heart from its chest.
Dismember my body,
So I can be free.

A fantasy of choice,
Not taken by me.
"How to sign up to be a murderers' next victim?"
MadameClaws Aug 29
before things get rash,
we should run.
but one of us is dead,
and one of us has no legs.

so,
maybe i went overboard.
maybe i already got rash.
maybe i messed it all up,
but we can still fix this.

i wait for you to chide me like you always do,
but all you do is bleed out.
i wait for you to get back up like you always do,
but all you do is lie there.
i wait for you to fix everything like you always do,
but you’re not chiding me,
and you’re not getting up,
and you’re not fixing
everything.

you can’t really expect to get out of this just like that, can you?

you can’t get away,
i’ve made certain of that.
i made sure you would stay here right next to me,
just like always, but baby,
it doesn’t feel like always.

before the sirens of an ambulance come cat-calling your body,
before they steal you from me, promise:
“to love and to cherish, until parted
by death.”
i can’t hear you, dear, that thief’s sonorous chorus resounds;
you’ll have to speak up.
because we can still run, we can still get away from this town,
we can still steal your father’s beat-up pick-up truck and run away,
just like the songs.

honey, don’t you get it?
we’ll always be together,
“‘til death do us part,”
you swore it yourself.

well, i’m not dead yet,
but the paramedics lift you into the back of that **** ambulance,
while i’m loaded into the back of a cop car.

we are still bound by our vows.
this was one of my first poems, lovingly inspired by richard siken's work. i've finally gotten around to giving it the love it deserves and polished it to perfection. i'm unable to give the poem the formatting it's meant to be read with, so you can view that here: madameclaws.carrd.co/#vows

thank you for reading this far ♡
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