Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
In a frigorific and caliginous dungeon,
You ensconce me along with the dust.
Our flesh is so terribly pungent,
With the scents of a violent lust.

Two vile and barbarous lovers,
Indulging in our brutal embrace.
Teeth stained with vermillion colors,
As a baneful grin adorns your face.

You pounce upon me like your prey,
As I helplessly lie in pure rapture.
Mauling and kicking away,
You have me blissfully captured.

I am entombed in your grip,
As vermin between beastly jaws,
Leaving my heavenly ichor to drip.
Soon to be torn by bellicose claws.

Quaff the crimson from my veins,
Suckle at the jugular nectar,
For I shall bide in these chains
As a bloodless and pallid white specter.
Lizzie Bevis Aug 29
Not all who have suffered
pass on their pain,
some embrace kindness,
so others won't feel the same.
They build safe spaces
where healing begins,
and turn their own pain
into nurturing within.

The cycles of hurt
they choose to defeat,
creating resilience,
and cathartic retreats.
Broken souls learn
compassionate truths,
that healing oneself
can be powerful too.

©️Lizzie Bevis
"Never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense." - Winston Churchill
Hello Daisies Aug 28
I've been angry
I've been lying
I've been crying
For no reason
But again
I'm lying
The reason is

96
And camping
The reason is
It's raining and it's only  8 o'clock
The reason is your high pitched laugh
Making my brother annoyed
Letting me stay at your house
Holly and your dog
Making jokes
On all my posts
The reason is
You're nothing but a ghost
And that ****** me off
You're gone
When you belonged
Right here
With my mother
As her little brother

Griefs a *****
Life is a ***** too
For taking you
So young
You belonged here
: ( he passed in march unexpectedly. I never took time to grief *** it hurt too much. His insurance company didn't give him his heart medicine. He passed because of that.
jack Aug 28
if we close our eyes and i clasp
my hands together really tight, we can
pretend that i’m 7 again

so embarrassed to tell gram that i wet the bed
i smile and nod
through the wetness down my legs

nobody’s home to tuck me in
in a minute i’ll have to get up and take a shower, and then i’ll see
the blood.

every car that’s driving by slows down by our house
the drivers rubberneck into our family room
& peer over the kitchen counter to stare at my naked body,
a fender ****** on route 30

traffic will be backed up for miles

this accident has scars on its arms
this accident has shaky hands
this accident can’t look you in the eye when it says
i’m sorry

in 20 minutes, it’ll all be down the drain
i will send grace pictures
of me when i got my wisdom teeth out
and reassure her that the swelling won’t be that bad

after i clean the knife we can act
like nothing ever happened, until
the next time that i hurt someone
other than myself
longer poem than what i normally do. slight trigger warning probably.
ASLRC Aug 28
Open your lustful legs
do so when a man begs

Let them spit in your face
‘cause you should know your place

Make their violence portray their passion
since you are born to tolerate this aggression

You are nothing more than some holes
nothing to say, ‘cause it’s the man who controls

Be beautiful, be youthful, be skinny- be tight
Who else is going to show you love tonight?

You are nothing more than a temporary human incubator
“After 18, you expire”, says the ****- infused manipulator

Some of us are stuck in blue online vending machines
they pay girls posing like in pervert *******-zines

Once, I was this carefree and happy sweet little one
now I have to fight against the lust of someone’s son
Hello Daisies Aug 28
My blood boils
It runs through me
Like fire
My heart is on the highway
Driving at full speed
Driving away from the sirens
The chaos
Yet it follows me
My veins pop out
They put on a show
They dance
And throw knives at the crowd
Everything is too loud

All my life
I've felt this way
All my life i ran and hid away
I always listened to the **** you would say
Be brave
Follow the rules
Be perfect
Be quiet

I stuck to your diet
For life
Perfect little girl
In a not so perfect little world
I was modest and meek
I took every beating
Every week

I was betrayed
Mocked
Ridiculed
Violated
Abandoned
Forgotten
And disrespected
Yet i stayed
Quiet
Yet i apologized
And never
Misbehaved

Every little infraction
Noticed by you
Yet you said it was god who cared
God who has shamed me
For being different
For dying my hair
For standing up for myself
But he doesn't shame you
For being a terrible parent
Or person
Or liar

My therapist says I'm too angry
But who wouldn't be?
If you were me?
Wouldn't you want the world on fire
If you were me?
Dealing with ****
Abandonment
Everyone crawling all over you
Seeping into your bones
Doing whatever they want
While i cry alone
While i waste my life away
And sacrifice myself to
Your hypocritical throne

Will my anger ever cease?
Will i ever find peace?
Will anyone ever stop disrespecting me?
Will anyone ever show they care?
Will god ever prove he's really there?
Will my loved ones stop dying young?
Will the world stop killing with such deep evil passion?
Can i ever make up for the missed life i lost?
Will i learn to be my own boss ?
To never apologize for my existence
To feel like i belong
To know I'm not wrong
To stand up for me
To become what i want to be
To know i deserve better
To burn every violent letter

Will i ever find peace?
Ever let my blood calm?
Ever feel the truth from psalms?
Only if the words in this poem
Become
My truth
My religion
If everything I asked for
If everything i can be
Happens
Maybe
Just maybe
I won't burn you all down

Maybe
I've been crying a lot and idek why but I've been angry lately too. Deeply angry
Lizzie Bevis Aug 27
Teardrops fall,
telling stories
that eyes cannot hide,
when the heart reveals all
without using words.
Pain and joy both flow,
as healing trickling streams
roll down over skin,
washing away
whatever ailed
or blessed the day.

©️Lizzie Bevis
⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: Themes of ****** Assault ⚠️

They told me I should be grateful,
As if pain is a prize for the taking.
“Was she hot?” they laughed,
Unaware of the soul they were breaking.

A man, they say, can’t be a victim,
Not of this—not of her.
“You got lucky,” they grin,
While my mind’s a blur.

It wasn’t luck when my breath froze still,
When my voice was stolen, against my will.
But the world looks at me, unphased, unkind,
As if my torment lives only in my mind.

They tell me men are made of stone,
That we can’t be broken, can’t be owned.
But when darkness fell, she carved her claim,
And left me drowning in silent shame.

“It’s not the same,” they smugly say,
“Don’t act like a girl; you’ll be okay.”
But it wasn’t a conquest, wasn’t a score—
It was a theft that echoes evermore.

How do I mourn what I’m told is gain?
How do I heal when they mock my pain?
This isn’t a badge, no victory here,
Just the soundless weight of my deepest fear.

Because no one sees the scars we bear,
When society’s laughter fills the air.
But I’ll whisper truth into the night
A man can hurt, that’s my fight.
I’ll shatter the silence, reclaim my right—
A man’s pain burns just as bright.
⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING: Themes of ****** Assault ⚠️

This piece holds a lot of weight—it’s one of my most personal. It’s deep, it’s heartbreaking, and it’s real. The topic of ****** assault is a serious one, regardless of who is affected. I wrote this from personal experience, with the intention of shedding light on male victims—those who are often doubted or dismissed. A man can go through this. They should not be silenced. No one should.
My tongue stays knotted—
a noose around my throat,
tightening with every word I don't say.
I choke on thoughts I can’t release,
each one suspended
in the silence of sentences I cannot find.

Ideas flash past like speeding cars,
but I stay still,
stranded at the edge of my own mind.
I am voiceless.
Mute.
Not because I have nothing to say—
but because I don’t know how to begin.

How can my head be full of questions
with no answers to still the storm?
I carry a flood behind my teeth.
They act as dams, holding back the ruin.

I reach for better days,
grasping air,
clutching at light that slips through my fingers.
But only the bitter ones remain.
I am too young
to feel the weight of this much sorrow.

The noose tightens.
And I fade—
not from view, but from within,
swallowing the ache that never softens.

I need the words
to name this pain,
to give it shape
so it no longer owns me.

I must find that voice—
the one I buried deep—
and set it free
before silence becomes the only sound I know.
This poem touches on themes of emotional struggle, silence, and the weight of unspoken pain. Please take care of yourself while reading.

Sometimes, the hardest thing is just finding the words to say how you feel—especially when what you're feeling is too heavy, too tangled, or too big for language. "Buried Voice" is a piece I wrote during a time when silence wasn’t peaceful—it was suffocating. When my mind was loud with thoughts, but my mouth stayed shut. It's about carrying pain you can't name, about trying to hold yourself together when all you really need is to be heard. It's about that weight—and the desperate, human need to finally break it. To speak. To breathe. To be seen.
Next page