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RyanMJenkins Apr 2019
I dated a ghost once, and after ghosting me for months she wound up getting really possessive.  I could see right through her and felt her intentions were oppressive.  Definitely a freak in the sheet and would promptly wake me from my sleep in the morning at three.  Sometimes raging she would throw so many things and blame it on me.  Not often responsive, she'd let me know where she was through a series of banging. Felt like I'd be talking to myself and going all types of crazy.  She once entered my dream and tried getting violent with me because I was with another lady.  That's when I knew it was time for saging.  Had to have an ancestor guide my pen In the breakup letter because my hands were shaky.   In this moment,finally, from that relationship I'm free.  Next time, maybe a dating site, and not the ******* Ouija.
madeline Jan 2019
i overshadow everyone around me.
i wail and moan and drag my chains of self pity.
people try to communicate
"are you ok?" they ask.
i try to move the planchette to no,
to tell them that i am far from ok
but it effortlessly slides to yes.
i'm sick of this haunting,
this spectral sadness
but i guess you can't wish to be dead when you already are.
i've always been obsessed with the paranormal, and one day when deep in my depressive thoughts i sort of started comparing myself to a ghost, and then this happened. Feel free to leave constructive criticism!!!
Alex Oct 2018
The mural, it was of myself
Amongst lycanthropic flowers
I was in the Balkins
And 6am was the hour

I saw this in a psych ward
The strangest thing it was
To see a portrait of myself
It seemed as if I was in Hell
Strange experience I had at a psych ward in Texas. Feel free to ask me more about it.
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
A ******* affair is common here
In a cemetery of sorts
We share a commonality of fear
Under siege of this final court

Where ash is finer than honey
And blood is a finer wine
And blood moons are just as sunny;
For where you die, there you dine

If pumpkins are a fable
And black cats are a muse,
Then we remain unstable
With none left to abuse

As darkness is a scary friend
I have never known a kinder foe
This void preaches a bitter end
And will follow wherever you go

There is a madness along this bend
And when it’s half passed dark
If you hear our drums: prepare for the end
Prepare for your embark.
I know it’s august but gosh **** it I want Halloween
Obey the everlasting voices.
Those that beg you do,
They'll be here until you die,
The only ones that will never leave you,
Not even at night,
Like a soul mate - they'll be here when you cry.

Obey them young child,
You must learn to sacrifice your lust,
There's light and then there's darkness,
Although, here there's only you,
You wonder where you are.

Keep walking in the shadows,
Be careful you don't stumble and trip
In the land of murkiness.
They await around corners,
Unrevealed; out of sight for most,
But never out of your mind.

What's wrong with her?
She must be hysterical; psychotic; certifiable.
No one sees things the way she does,
No one sees them at all:
The shadows in the corners of the room,
The nails - or was that claws - against the windows.

They don't feel
The panic
Like she does.

They'll creep into your room at night,
You scream, trying to tell them goodbye,
Except they never leave,
You beg please
And they lock you in the cellar.

Months go by and it takes,
Half a year to notice,
You haven't been seen outside.
It takes them months for you to find yourself screaming at the walls,
****** clothes on the floor,
Because you want to get rid of yourself,
Before they **** you.
This is different from my usual type of themes, I hope it doesn't **** too badly.
storm siren Apr 2018
"They never made a proper term to describe us."

She began.

The candle light
In the warm
May breeze

She swirled the liquid in her cup,
She said it was wine.
It looked more like gold.

"But, still, they tried..."

Her lips curved around the word,
It made sense her name was



But, when she placed her glass down, she stared up at the moon, her amber eyes glistening, almost bright yellow.


I don't remember the rest of the night,
But I know it was filled with kindness I've never known,
And it smelled
Like jasmine
And gardenias.
Despair Apr 2018
Devour My Memories, I Utter My Thanks

The faintest heartbeat, beating incessently within the womb of the accursed
A plague, a toxin, a parasite adorned in rozen love...
How despair will foster you as its own soon.
Despair that dusts blue skies to crimson.
Painting the earth with the despair you, so courteously, gifted...

A life she was meant to live, and a life she was almost denied.
Who was it that almost cried when she died?
Not the mother,
nor the father.
Not the god that wouldn't bother...

But the one whom those pointed and screamed

Adorn thee with strength, needed to breathe
Adorn thee with love, needed to grieve
As an infant, our adoring spirits you teethed...
Our child, concieved with love...

Father adorned your body in gallant, red petals...
Sprouting purple fruit, that blossomed upon your beautiful body.
Mother, saw nothing, for the sugar in her eyes...
Nullified her to the girl that slowly died.

Your brother we had, whom we ensured held your hand...
Overcome with corruption, he mangled those porcelain bones,
It needed to be planned.
to dust they turned, hollowing them from the inside
until the walking world grew barren, and your canvas lost its color.

They covered their eyes to the “us” that they saw...
And you, who wanted to live, wished to know why their spirits died.
You asked of us, begged as a young soul, to not be blind
So HE painted your canvas with color.
Distorted blacks, containing every hue that even a treasure of a species only saw...
You saw, for one simple reason,

We loved you.
We showed you that the conceptual distortion you felt...
That solidified pain...

It, too could become a comfort. And I became your comfort,

the only comfort that you need.
Despair Apr 2018
The rain pattering upon the window panes would drown out the screaming.
The nightmares that you put into my brain, gave my life meaning.
I could see through eyes that weren't mine,
into lives that were far from sublime.

Their tears were like a treat, a bitter chocolate that made my heart flutter...
Because what you shared with me, was a feeling unlike any other.
Their remarkable sadness, I felt as my own.
Had I not felt what you'd forced me to feel, there is no way I would've ever known.

Sensors that are there for me, are but vacant to the large majority.
What they cannot see and will not see,
combined by what I cannot see and will not see,
It drowns me.

My words rise like bubbles to the surface of this ocean.
If I press that sole piano key, the sound reverberates for an eternity.
And yet, it ceases to wade up above the surface.
I'm but a coelacanth, and my swimming is clumsy.

Not even the sound of that lovely train tune billowing throughout the wintry air...
Not even the audible tone of your crisp voice, nor your hissing within my ear,
Could make me wish to live. Yes, I know, life is unfair.
But it's so much easier for you to say that while you're up there.

The painter who paints with only a black and white canvas,
will have an easier time meshing hues, as opposed to the one who must encompass,
the broad colors of others. Their pigments, their variations,
with some paints dry and cracked, and others melting into congolomerations

Ah, yes. How much easier it is for you to say that from up there.

The lies resound the loudest, because the blatant call for help ceased to be loud enough.
Tell me, God, why wasn't my call loud enough?
In life, I have learned, yes it is not fair.
So I must take what I want. I cannot just sit and stare.

The strong prevail over the weak, or so, that is what you have lovingly taught me.
The man and the nightmare, splaying my insides out upon the pavement
electrocuting my body until not a single grief was left to be.
That pain drained away thanks to you, leaving not sadness... But resentment.

That I am this lone coelacanth, whose colors and intonations
touch but the surface of her own ocean, with but one measley formation.

And yet you swim with me, even if this swimming is clumsy.
As the lone, sea serpent... Whose scales glitter so vibrantly.
Dull to so many others, whom couldn't see your shine.
But I could with these eyes that you so humbly gave to me,
and even if I do not wish to live this life you gave me all the time,

you are but a buried treasure I call mine.
it just appeared on the tv screen
like black bold letters on a computer
set at the largest font
between the two chatting faces
sitting at the table in a restaurant
upon the white wall

it just appeared
my name
and then faded away
the faces kept chatting
as I slapped myself
hoping to find that I was dreaming
but I was not
I was awake
someone had just sent me a message
a message that they were here
I could not move for several minutes
my heart raced and a cold wave
cut through me like winter wind
through a cheap coat
the shadows danced in a different manner
the chill I felt could not be subdued with blankets
the cracking walls and creeking floors were now alive
on this night
in this house
the haunting had begun
oldie - absolutely true story
Leah Iris Mar 2018
I can feel you behind me,
Something breathing still
Against my heartbeat
And the very hairs on my back.

I meet you sometimes
Between the uncertainty
Of my solid skin, and yours
As firm as glass when you’re here.

I dare you to speak
And to break me open
Like a pomegranate spilling
It’s ruby seeds.

Instead, you, full of
Clementine melancholy,
Turn round the edges of the moon
And the sun rises.
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