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mark soltero Sep 27
what ***** is
the overwhelming feelings
that i cannot seem to control

chemical imbalance
i cannot seem to get a grasp on this

seeing those
the better ones
always hurts
because I’ll never see in myself
what i can in others

on occasion i may see a glimpse of careless being
never truly believing what i think

i rather show you the pain i feel
as i tear away at your veins
hollowing out your psyche
to wear your face

i can finally be beautiful
just like you
444
they came to check on me
room 222
I had tried to enter room 555 earlier
and the guest reported me to the front desk
who had, in turn called the Sheriff's office
the guest stated that she normally wouldn't have called
but I had such a menacing look that it frightened her
almost a look of...evil
it was 3:33am and the hotel was quiet
they knocked but got no answer
they had the front desk call the room
still no answer
they finally got a pass-key from security
and entered the room to find me passed out on the couch
they checked for a pulse
laughed it off and left me to my dreams
all of this save a vague recollection of being at the bar had left me

and what a dream
I was back in the bar
in the midst of a heated argument over religion, God, evil...
it was close to turning violent when a few cops arrived
they arrested me for drunk and disorderly
but let the other guy slide
I hollered and screamed on the way to the station
even threatened their lives
they just laughed...an evil laugh

I passed out before reaching the station
and in the dream I woke up in my cell
and then immediately and in actuality, awoke in my room
it was 5:55am and I wanted to hit the road by 6am
to get a jump on traffic
I got a quick shower, packed and was at the desk in 20 minutes

The desk agent, after wishing me a safe trip
began to apologize for the incident the previous night
and said it happens all the time
I asked what incident she was referring to
she said 'well, going to the wrong room by mistake'
I advised her she must have me confused with another guest
'oh no' she said...'I'm quite sure...room 222, correct?'
yes...but
'and so unfortunate for the 2 officers who took you to your room
and came back when you were found wandering in the halls trying to get into other guestrooms. Well, just a short time later on their very next call they arrested someone else who grabbed one of their guns and shot both of them. Isn't that awful. I forgot to mention...we dropped the charge for the drink you had just ordered before the officers arrived in the bar...so you have a credit of 6.66 on your card. Come see us again Mr Gates.'
That's Bates...
yea...it's a stretch...
Ruheen Jul 13
They do have the best stories.
May not be very bubbly
Or comedic,
But thrilling,
At the least.
Horror
Is
The most fascinating
Genre.
...
Demi May 2
One. I ask my Dad what day it is, again. Two. I had a nightmare that our block of flats was exploding whilst I ran away, do you think this reflects my fear of the virus, doc? Three. Chocolate porridge at 2pm, maybe its a bit late for porridge. Four. I think I accidentally chucked my propranolol tablets into the bin. Five. I take a bike ride round the village and I get intrusive thoughts about knocking over old people, on purpose, for fun. Six. I’m back to the flat and the ceiling looks like it’s lower than usual, did I grow a few inches? Seven. I can’t remember the last time I saw Emma, must have been when she cried in Wetherspoons, someone crying with you is better than no friend. Eight. My breathing turns shallow I think, I check my symptoms. Nine. I imagine dying of it and look back at my twenty-five years like a montage and get really overwhelmed and then I start to watch an old Mickey Mouse cartoon on my laptop. Ten. I just spotted a really plump pigeon outside. Eleven. Is this how hamsters feel, trapped inside with a few things to stimulate them. If so, I’m so sorry Martin (my old hamster). Twelve. The frustration sets in like thick molasses filling in the grooves of my soft brain. Thirteen. I turn to drawing and just end up sketching a huge mouth swallowing a rat. Fourteen. It’s bedtime and I settle down with a book. American ******. Patrick just killed a dog and it set me off sobbing. Fifteen.  I close my eyes and wish for a better day tomorrow. Is it going to be Tuesday or Wednesday?
Prose poem.
Tommy Randell Feb 11
Yes, that was me
      in your dreams last night
But I will keep to myself
      the promises you made -
I saw you this morning
      glance at me as we crossed paths
Although I too almost believed
      we were not lovers
So good was your performance -
      Bravo, my Love -
Please don't reply openly
      my wife is suspicious already -
I have mentioned you
      Once or twice over breakfast
But I was suitably vague
      making unwavering eye contact
Lying about how unfit you are
      at work, and how young & naive -
I had to pour hot coffee on my own hand
      to disguise my growing arousal -
I know the way you walk home
       I will step from the shadows
To surprise you where we can talk
       finally alone to plan our joining
You will recognize me I know
       our destiny will drive us on -  
Never before has such certainty
       been mine and all before
We have even met socially or talked -
       So clever of you to call me to you -
So clever of you to wear blue
       like the others...
Storytelling, I love Story telling.
Sunset Meadows Nov 2019
Sometimes I wonder
Who sees me for me
And who just sees a person

Does it make it easier for them
To target a faceless person
Rather than a ******

Is that all I am
A ******
Just a messed up person
Whose brain forces harm

What makes me so different than you?
Than the normal ones

Where are the ones who arise for us
Have they all disappeared?
Left us for death?
Tell me what you think.
Anya Nov 2019
Smile my dear!
You’re never fully dressed without one
In here we’re all a little queer
but otherwise it wont be much fun
In this house of rotting sin
Full of violence and ***** gin
And that psychos lovely grin
What should I say but,

“let’s begin”

With all our thrills collecting dust
And our smiles dirt and rust
We must bring cheer to the sinners here

What else is there left to do?

See the smiles turn to ashes
and their speckles turn to rashes

Is that not fun for you?

Entertainment is my being
and my show is one worth seeing
With all the actors playing part
Full of greed and loss of heart
Like the cretins in these walls
And drudges through the halls
For me this place is paradise
It’d take all holy to **** me twice
And since my deaths grown rather bored
I thought to use you and cause discord
To see each devil loose their mind
Is entertainment of the purest kind
And might I say your silly way
May liven up my day

And while all Hell may not yet see it
Here I must say “so be it”
Though this charity work you see me do
Is just for me not you
For I wish a fire to your desire
To me that’s fun and new

And though no need to ask “why”
I still reply:
“Sheer boredom my dear
For every dreams run dry”
Jack Torrance Sep 2019
“I don’t know what to do”,
she says quietly.
“I know it sounds paranoid,
but he’s following me.”

“I talked to his sister,
she said he’s out of state.
Supposedly in Ohio,
cause he needed a break.”

“But no one’s heard from him,
since I got the P.O.
He always said they were useless,
just false safety for show.”

“Well of course he isn’t,
he left this last night.
He has the only spare key,
and I know I locked up tight.”

“I’ve never seen that picture,
but I still have that dress.
He bought it for me,
and it’s the one he liked best.”

“But turn it over,
and look what he wrote.
It’s ******* filthy,
that part about *******.”

“I’m just really scared,
because I know he’s watching.
I constantly have the feeling,
someone’s following me.”

“Would you do me a favor,
and stay with me tonight?
I probably won’t sleep,
but if you’re there I might.”

“Thank you so much,
you are such a great friend.
Just having a man there,
makes a difference in the end.”

“I’ll see you tonight,
thank you so much again.
He always hated you,
even though we’re just friends.”
.
.
.
.
I watch out the window,
as she climbs in her car.
She doesn’t suspect it’s me,
at least not so far.

She didn’t ask why I was sweating,
or see the dirt under my nails.
Thank God she was upset,
and didn’t notice the smell.

I keep watching,
till she drives away,
touching myself,
as I play out the day.

She was right about one thing,
he’s still around,
but he won’t leave my basement,
once he’s in the ground.

Maybe I’ll get lucky,
and she’ll wear the dress.
He did have good taste,
cause it’s the one I liked best.
This is a piece I wrote for a “stalker” challenge.
Dum dum dum
The dreaded sound of drum comes.

My corpse is painted, full coverage of red
How can a body be alive while the soul is dead?
Words,  words are knives that aims to ****

Killing is no fun without suffering
Pleasure grows when pain last longer
Break the victim slowly
Just one at a time and don't forget to help them up
Bring them hope and see them stand up to their knees
Now, time to throw more knives until they fall
Let the crumbling hope be their last straw

Do you feel more pleasure?
Watching the hope crumbles as life disappear

In martyrdom I suffer
Yes, such idiocracy still exist
While my identity is gone
no more hope for this unknown entity
But in the same fate, you should not fall.

Dum dum dum
The dreaded sound of drum is gone.
I'd like to remind everyone that verbal abuse is real and it affects a person's mental health. Let us fight it.
jilli Jul 2019
Absolutely torn to shreds
She’s hurt to the point where she doesn’t   care whether she’s alive or dead

Lost in a world that doesn’t exist
The only thing she remembers is his tender kiss

Now her head is spinning faster than you can imagine
She dreams of flying away with a death driven dragon

She can’t that horrific image out of her head
She can’t unsee the other girl in his bed

She’s starting to become hazy
Soon she’ll be absolutely crazy

Getting good ideas that aren’t good at all
She’s going to figure out away to make the other girl fall

Poison, needles, knives that’ll leave scars
She just doesn’t think she’ll end up behind bars

Convincing herself she didn’t just make a life end
“The other girl is taken care of now,” she tells her boy. ”lets just pretend.”
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