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neth jones Jan 7
burn all the study notes
smash the greenhouse windows
destroy the lab equipment
and flood the basement storage

shell anything personal
shuck any valuables
abandon this invested waste
become unpossessed

you think your heart is broken ?
her token is silt in memory
take it to the streets at night
sully it thoroughly
and file off the organs remaining operations
make it un-abusable
and option-less

what about your face ?
bleed away
you recognize nothing
bleed actual jail from your eyes
and crawl from the fight that mauled you
claim your part in the background
a pant of the great huffin'
lose yourself in the noise
the trade
the interference
the indifference

you're a vile version
and drag this edition
to it's rotten point
the lowest style of limb
where you needn't fend
where you are securely unmended

a gentleman approaches...

you peer from pinhole

he looks 'the you' over

you pass the city border
beyond the last streetlight
you have earned ghost
now you may be of some use
now 'you' are not

                                        - canvas
Anora Emporium Aug 2019
I'm so terrified
Of being alone
That when I finally find someone
I truly connect with
Not just physically
But when every fibre of my being screams to be with them
Again starts the self-erruption
The awkward conversation
The "I'm such a bro"
Oh you didn't message me?
******* then
Destruction bubbling up
Under a crusty surface
And anyone who ever has the guts and soul to brave walking on the mantle
Will undoubtedly be swallowed up by the torrential flames and magma
For the greatest way for me to show you respect
Is to open the tourist gate
And watch this suffocate
Before you can **** yourself
Trying to love something
As volcanic as me
choke on these ashes
words I shouldn't have scattered...

But what if
when the cloud clears
you realise you don't like
what you find.
fray narte Jul 2019
she liked vibrant colors.
how could she not?

i mean,
see how striking
red looked

against the paleness
of her wrists
fray narte Jul 2019
writing you poems feels like relapsing into self-destruction
fray narte Jul 2019
you —
kissing the scars on my skin;
such a delicate, carefully crafted
form of poetry, honey,
i will lay it down apollo's altar.

your lips.
my wrists.

and again.

and for a moment there,
they don't look like
a bedlam of veins cut open.
for a moment there,
they look nowhere near
the metaphors
used in place of my self-destruction.
Anora Emporium Jun 2019
Off my head
Off my ****
It's ****
But life acts like this
Acts up
Been found with hands red
Axe up
And smell the roses
Nothing but poses
In a field of fakery
New scent from Axe! The perfect gift for those in your life who hate themselves. Buy new 'Axe: Deflection' today!
Amanda Mar 2018
I always end up
Self-destructing, leaving those
Close wounded or dead.
I wish I had more control.
Kenley Mar 2018
Please take a seat
In the back of my head
Stop hijacking my thoughts
And wishing me dead

Hand over the reins
I'll take it from here
You will self destruct
And you're insincere

I look to the future
I welcome the new
You served no purpose
And I am stronger than you
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