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Carlo C Gomez May 2020
I steel myself for the familiar
--the dark cylinders
of half-smoked cigarettes,
I can feel it in my lungs.

"Magic begins with blood," you said.
"Don't get stuck on a dream."

That could never be.
I dream of someone new each time.

"For me, I'm your sorrow
calling in your dreams.
For me, I'm your shadow
howling in the streets."

My hands, they close
around the throat,
until that whispered plea
becomes a silent sonnet.

"You'll be happier in your grave."
Stephen Shaw Sep 2019
Warm thoughts... Love
5 years old, Safe, a dream.
Happiest with my Nan,
My best friend, my mum.

This dream, so strong,
Just can't be wrong.
It couldn't be ignored,
Started me on a photography course...

Not Sure? Only good will, arise.
Positive thoughts in my mind's eye.
Let's go somewhere,change things,
I can help, don't you know?

Oh how I was wrong...
Instead I met Crow.
Sometimes happy childhood memorys and dreams can't be ignored but shouldn't be followed
Chris Aug 2019
I am never gonna change.
I don't need to.
I'm already everyhing.
I am what you call deranged.
People see that.
I'm already dead.
Far away and out of range.
I don't want to.
I don't need friends.
I am never gonna change.
Just so you would.
Start to like me.
I am not controlled or stopped.
Say goodnight to niceties.
Goodbye to free will.
Hello misery.
If you ever cross me.
I'm sorry doctor.
There's nothing to cure.
I just hurt because I can.
******* a thousand times world :)
Sara Kellie May 2019
With leather clad hands
and old plastic sheets
he makes up the reasons
for the people he meets.

They'll feel nothing's wrong
for he sings a sweet song
where false promises are made
with a smile from a blade.

And on a cold knife night
he'll extinguish their light
as they struggle for air,
for their pain
is longer than
the chair.
For seconds in the electric chair.
𝐕𝐕 Apr 2019
Behind a closed eye is the killer that lurks in the shadows. His name is...... STRESS. They call him the ‘the silent killer’. He finds you when you find him. He plans his attacks to prey on the young and the weak minded at night, for they are the best prey. Right before the last shadow, he slips into unconsciousness and delves into the networks of the brain. And then, that is when he begins his work.

He’s only friends with himself.

He’s out to get me,

He’s out to get you.

  You best watch yourself if you don’t wanna be caught by the bad man. You don’t wanna run into him on the way home. You wouldn’t like to know what he would do with a live body. His fingers will work his way through, destroying your mind complexion. It is all claimed. By brutal force, he will shelter your brain into solitude, hiding your brain away as a hermit to begin the ritual of slipping on the juice.

He’ll have you crawling on your knees,

your eyes will crave the desperate lust of freedom.

He’ll wrap his arms around your chest and squeeze it tight without ever stopping.

He’ll bathe you in wrinkles and steal your fountain of youth,

He’ll crawl into your brain and rot it away, drinking the juice,

He’ll alienate any living individual you socialized with.

He’ll knock down your door one day.... and **** you.

   Let out all your pretty screams and cries if you wish to alleviate two-second pains of memory burns.

  You can’t escape stress once you’re snared in his trap. His body fuses with yours the instant you are found. Your physical body becomes a walking piece of meat while your mental body is possessed by the demon named stress. There is no escape, you are trapped and there is nothing furthermore of what you can do. He'll corrupt the cells, weaken your heart, and drain your lively source that was beneficial in assuming you were vivacious. If not dead once, it wouldn't matter anyway, as he would consider you a treat.

  For you are already dead.
likewise, avoiding stress, in general, is key mates
A Dec 2018
The smiling man from the grocery store
Doesn't seem as cheery
Staring up at you from Grandma’s china
The stench drifting through the house
Doesn’t seem as exciting
As the first time, it greeted you at your front door
The man who used to sit your dining room table
Doesn’t seem as annoying
When he’s split into his own jigsaw puzzle
The noise coming from the park
Doesn’t seem as innocent
Since you dumped your leftovers there
this was for a thing about serial killers for halloween
Cory Williams May 2018
I live for that sound,
Between life and death,
Natural,
Forced,
And naturally forced by my hand,
Serrated steel extension of wild precision,
It says it needs a shower,
And I oblige.

Daddy takes care of his children;
I am firm.
Keep your nose to the grindstone,
Yet,
I am warm,
I'm grateful for your amenity,
Your love,
Your life in pools of red,
My children live through you,
Through your sacrifice they grow.

I...I know you understand,
As you make that sound,
Telling me "you are welcome",
Cradled in my loving arms,
I am humbled.
sammy Apr 2018
his slender fingers reach
for the nape of my neck
I think he’s leaning in for a hug
but his hands rest comfortably
around my throat
tight and snug
my circulation slows
his sharp nails are digging into my skin
my hands are too weak to contest him,
the blood draining from my veins.
he pushes me up on the wall and grins
as I’m left to thrash against his grip and charm
the static drums loud and clear behind my ears
“really, darlin’, what’s the harm?”
inhaling my scent, filled with fear
his voice is just above a purr
I can’t believe I’m choking,
but I can’t believe he’s here.
his hold slacks, and I can whisper
“but I love you…”
a playful smirk is plastered on his face
and he licks his lips, murmuring
“you smell sweet…”
before diving in for the ****
he kisses me, hard and rough
last bits of air dwindling
and I am left
breathless
written in 2014
Priya Gaikwad Apr 2018
Picture him: He’s gorgeous, thin, tall, and fair, has soft hair; his soft hair falls on his mischievous eyes. He has a pointed nose which makes him look evil. He only wears black which is his favorite color. Oh, you must see him in black; it makes him look like a mesmerizing poem. Imagine him, just close your eyes and imagine him wearing a black, long leather jacket. His eyes are only on you. When he looks at you, your insides churn and you wanna do the unspeakable things with him. He moves closer to you, smiles, oh that smile, which will make the devil weak in the knees. He is a bad, bad boy you always wanted. He touches you setting your body on fire and slowly gets the knife out to slit your throat.
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