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Poetic T Aug 2014
Outside it was them, inside corrupt
  When I looked upon them
it was a suit,
A tool,  
It was just for show,
Trickery was its weapon
It was but a vessel
To harbour that which spread with a touch
It was
Corrupted,
Rotting,
Decaying,
It needed to be free,
Before the shell decomposed
And became but putrid flesh and bone,
The one that was there,
Personality,
Spirit,
Life,
Was gone, the shell was a trick
A walking death, but no one was home,
It will taint those who loved
It will consume you,
Never let it touch or hold,
For it will taint your soul
And after its finished
You will no longer be you,
But a shell of corruption, evils new home.
There's no other path
that this gravity will take

Supplanting
my air, my breath
as every sense drowns
within a distorted atmosphere

The walls
rise on and up
As I feel this weight
wiring to my mind

Fuses so short
I never notice the sparks
until the last one pinches
and scatters the emotions within
my now-broken shell.
wandabitch Jul 2014
And here I am
Throwing yo Iin the bathroom
I'm a iiiye
Upset
If can't tell.

Why not choose me your
Love and thing
In use

You make me ****


It's a stand alone complex
Ghost in the shell
Animatrix.
I'm not sure if I wrote the first part of this.  But the last stanza I wrote. It's mysterious and subtly I am attracted.
Invocation Jul 2014
why do they salt the outside
we eat the organs
and leave the shredded exo-
skelatals
underfoot and on the desk
evan has a mountain of peanut shells strewn around
Sometimes I wish
I was a seashell on the beach
That you would pick up
And keep forever.
Antinganting: A magical charm or good luck piece.
Ironatmosphere Jun 2014
We buy bags and shoes for money that could feed us for weeks
We use Botox and scalpels to fix our imperfections
We never leave the house or the room without checking our reflection
or taking a selfie
We make sure there’s never a hair out of place or a flaw to be seen
We are the lost generation
Our appearances are nothing but shells
But that’s fine
No one ever sees the empty insides
We are the lost generation
We are empty inside
But we don’t care
All we have ever wanted
All we have ever craved
is to be beautiful corpses
and that's all we'll ever be
Janielle Mainly Jun 2014
Where are you hiding?
Come out from your shell
I've been ringing the bell, but you refuse to open your door politely,
Finally you answer my call..
I've been waiting half an hour, outside your window,
I didn't have anywhere else to go, so let me in!
Subtly, so subtly, the workings of Time
Must alter the shape of the outer shell
Of a body once vibrant and molded so well!

Slowly, but surely, like a wood-boring worm,
Out of the gloom of a perilous clime,
Firm in the grasp of a seasonable term,

Comes the chill-laden wintry spell
Of sad infirmity in a dismal sphere;
Lost in the woods of a cherished dream,

In the thickening fog of Nature's scheme,
Midst muffled sounds of distant strains
Are earlier years that knew no fear

Of time and age, what now remains
Eternity must rightly redeem.
Conor Letham Jun 2014
Putting the receiver
to the cupped side
of my leaning face,
I'll listen to an old,
dead phone, a husk
with a sound echoing
inside like a seashell:

I tune into the static
as if they were waves
sweeping in and out
of my eardrum, hear
the whisper of voices
asking the operator
to pass on last sighs.
I thought of the word 'husk' and wanted to use it somehow. I might not be done with this piece, so be warned that I may edit it!
Ellenah Jun 2014
Sitting here,  I wonder
Maybe we aren't so different
Maybe there is good in you
After all.

My faith it grows,
Just a drop,
But enough for me to
Escape my small shell of hatred.

But just like that
My drop evaporates
And I am stuck
Back in my shell again.
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