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Àŧùl May 2017
I had been extremely patient,
Wish she was a bit mature too.
With my love she was lucky,
I so wish that I was lucky too.
Hope she showered love on me,
Not a zombie but I am a human too.
But it is Karma and it is not yet shining!
My HP Poem #1544
©Atul Kaushal
Zero Nine Apr 2017
Why,
Why
Do we ****
Ourselves
My
My
My lungs hurt
Smoking
In
Time
Will take my
Short life
I'll be a ghost
Yet
I
Sit outside
Smoking
No longer choke
...
JJ Cooke Mar 2017
Night coming down on the land shaded red,
As cunning and quick as a fox.
I rest in a cold lonesome room and bed,
When sharply upon my door knocks;

A strange subject standing,
A freak on my landing,
The twilight refuses to show.

I stay here and wonder,
I shake from the thunder,
I fear what it is I don't know.

With a moon resting dull,
Now the night comes in full,
A horrible shriek from there calls.

With a pulsating head,
I vacate this tense bed;
Curious the way this noise falls.

Outside rain dances to thundering drums,
While lightning exposes the void.
As I creep, I peak upon toes dead numb,
The knocking is quicker deployed.

Advancing the floor I see there is more,
to this unwelcome guest received.
Slowing my pace now i reach for the door,
It opens my eyes are deceived;

Before me stands still,
In a downpours chill,
This oddly shadow cast creature.

And even as still,
The lighting is nil,
Yet I can make out main features;

Without hair skull exposed,
Lacking eyes lips and nose,
Black tongue behind finely filed spikes.

It's breath suggests death,
And the chest 'neath it's neck,
Bares broken ribs sharpened as pikes.

Behind the pointy bones,
In the gore there is shown,
My caller is lacking it's heart.

So as seemingly ******,
I now open my home,
In hopes that this beast wont depart.

Curious to know how this thing is alive,
I've opened my doors and let it inside,
I'll ask it some questions and then maybe I,
Should cut off the head to see if it dies.
Zero Nine Mar 2017
Tastes like there's something in the water
No word from the wise yet, of recompense
Who put this zombie in me?
I trudge, judge, shamble, stumble
Who put this zombie in me?
I speak in numbers
I see in perfect white blank
Space that makes me thirsty
I like swallowing a multitude of things
Brad French Mar 2017
I’m a zombie at heart
Viewing the screen all day
No life breaths in my heart
Staring at the screen everyday
Watching the fallout right before my eyes
Look outside, don’t you see?
You can be whatever you want to be
I’m just a zombie at heart
There isn’t much left
Medicated to the bone
Left untamed by depleting hearts
Oh so alone
Or am I?
Shawn B Mar 2017
I just watched a movie of Werewolves
Let us say actually of
Werewolves, Vampires, Zombies and any of the like
If I were one
I'd be any one, any day
let's **** the past

I was lost
And searching for some life to borrow

The point is for me, where does my life come from
Or where does my help come from
My help comes from You, maker of heaven
Creator of the whole earth
This life offered
All but for me to seek and find
Or any old creature too

In the morning I get up
Kneel and say
"thank You"

I was found
And found again, when I loose my way

I just called my Dad
Or let's say maybe my Brother
Though the memory of the rest still follow me to this day

Were?
Walking dead you could say
Where?
You bring the life with you

Lost now found

Am?
Alive as I allow myself to be, or more alive at least
As I Give, Share, Love, Bless, Pray, Encourage, Help, Listen...
Love by Faith
Over Jordan is a choice. Though I still walk a little broken, I hope God will use this broken clay, and see me home. SB
Amanda Newby Dec 2016
I am soft-hearted,
And Sapphic.
But she is not a human girl
Anymore.

Every time I lay her to rest,
She rises
Like a phoenix.
Or a zombie.

She is soft-bodied.
Empty-headed.
Empty-hearted.

She is rotten to me.
All memory of her,
Warm woman,
Is gone now.
Her body is a dead thing.
A shell, only good for gutting.

My heart is spilling.

My insides are gooey.
They slip between other girl's hands-
Repulsive.
Hazardous.
A lost cause.

My heart is a terminal case.

Until it's replaced,
I am all robot.

Hard-bodied.
Hard-headed.
Empty-hearted.

Every girl
Who gives me the kiss-of-life
Is cursed.

I search for a shell
To put my dead into.

But she is in cahoots
With the rotted.

All I want
Is a soft-hearted girl
To lay with.

To lay me down
To rest.

To love to death.
Kewayne Wadley Oct 2016
When I first saw her I wondered the reason for her stare.
Nothing out of the ordinary but after a while you know, self conscious thoughts kick in.
Is there something on my shirt, does she notice how big my head really is.
Do I have a ****** that popped out to say hi.
Standing at the front door of hello and what the hell,
At this point I don't know if I waved to ease my comfort or hers.
My first impression was that she was tore down, the after effect of an avid pill popper, far too gone to realize how tore up she was. Xannies, Bars, Rolls
coming down from a pharmaceutical high
Kind of slumped over, standing there.
Lips quivering a muffled sound.
An impediment of sorts collecting her words as they spilled on the ground.
I walked over asking if everything was alright, I mean after all I couldn't just leave her there fumbling about.
Then out of nowhere I heard everything I couldn't hear before
Every word lunging at me making it perfectly clear that she wasn't living in her head nor was she just standing there integrating herself, eyes rolled to the back of her head.
In retrospect, I should have paid more attention to the lack of arm she was missing.
**** zombie
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