#emotive
The flayed flow of the **** forming a liturgy to the carrion soul of rot.
The ferrous suffocation of sanguine screams deafen as the sinew of cacophonous loneliness binds.
Love? A Petulant abrasion.
In each breath crawling towards its hemorrhagic horror; desperate for the tender affliction coiling its thorns into flesh.
Putrid in serenity with diseased beauty, yet hatefully devoted passions…
Wordsmiths laid bare; a sacrifice to be deveined and devoured,
A carcass of endeavouring putrefaction, persisting, only to be maimed.
Strumming the mutilated nerves of the heart in its tachycardic fury is the only thing that awaits us
Life, a great gift, yet must be by strangulation.
Death a grave curse,yet must be requiem.
In pathological egress, the bile yearns.
Joy in exodus, ecstasy in emanation.
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 2:17 PM UTC
Was it a poetic reflection?
Was it projection?
No;
it was mental protection—
Going internal—sharing my
journaled thoughts and
calling them poems—
they’re really just words,
describing emotions,
looking for homes.
As I dissect your
diatribe, hiding
behind each inflection—
we called it love when, really,
it was an infection.
Spread from one soul
to another: a fire
that no dumpster
could contain.
The potency of
limerence—I simply
could not refrain.
Your taste so sweet,
your scent so pleasant,
reeking of love—
until your poison began
seeping, giving vacuity
a shove.
Discretion was a
misdirection,
the same way
fidelity fled your
awareness—
but I’m the one who
trusted you—
in all fairness…
So lay your blame
on my chest,
in the very place
your head used
to rest…
Our love, now like
sleeping dogs—
burning on the pyre
and smoldering to
ash—until there’s
nothing left but
fragments of lies,
like cracks in the
burnt white logs…
Jan 10
Jan 10, 2026 at 12:25 AM UTC
Leaks of starlight
waver amid an expanse of black
these distant shimmers of spirits
calling out
to mourners below
their orchestral lament
forging tears for the living
that slide
with inevitable sorrow
Oct 23, 2025
Oct 23, 2025 at 6:47 PM UTC
She waltzed in wearing lavender -
not the bruised blue hue of dried buds,
but the soft, delicate shade that makes you forget
poison can be pastel
and alive.
The cerulean seas of her eyes
surveyed me with a crocodilian smirk
an undertow ready to clench and drag
for its own amusement
She smiled like silk,
shiny, delicate, costly
as she handed me a cedar latched spice box.
Inside
red cords, scissors
pressed flowers so fragile they'd shatter
with a whisper
and a single letter sprinkled
with cayenne
sealed with red lipstick
too heavy to open.
"Time doesn't belong to you," She whispered
like it was a flirtation
like my hours were hers
to unwrap
to discard
She kissed my questioning forehead
soft, sealing, dismissive,
answered nothing
just reached for my hands
with perfectly manicured cold fingers
I gasped awake
my mouth full of cinnamon
dry and hot
a goodbye I didn't choose caught in my throat
that I prayed I'd never have to speak.
She's reappeared now and again
in the corners of mirrors,
fond of the elevator's reflective surround
and the hammered copper coffee jar
that stays open like a lifeline.
always twirling her ashen ringlets
waiting? warning?
When I glimpse her, I open the lace covered windows
and let the sun reclaim the shadows -
until even her perfume forgets my name.
May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC
When it comes to the world,
I'm a preterm baby—
I know nothing
of tales, adventures,
treachery, or wisdom.
I watch
with hooded, glazed eyes
that only understand
fragments—
splinters
of ideas.
So when I got a glimpse,
it wasn’t something
a cradle-bound soul
could ever decipher.
It's the justification of just—
It’s never just a papercut.
And it wouldn’t be.
It’s never I’m fine.
And it wouldn’t be.
My baby self
is allowed to throw a fit.
I think
every other version
should too.
But I’m only a preterm.
What do I know?
May 4, 2025
May 4, 2025 at 4:46 AM UTC
As a song without words-
Shall I sing, forevermore?
These shapeless chords
That give way to convey
Statement, free from form.
Much the same as one who
Must scream, yet is unable?
Feb 2, 2024
Feb 2, 2024 at 4:49 PM UTC
Forest floor, underbrush abound;
The light sprinklings of winter found.
Snow kissed scenery, that
Whether cold be dreary
Still seems the more dreamy, than
Tracing each step.
These frigid months of death-
Before life springs back
Bringing fresh greenery
Jan 18, 2024
Jan 18, 2024 at 8:37 PM UTC
Blood from a stone;
Vulcan, erupt.
In his Ares heart,
Of the Zeno soul.
The battle drags on
For a cause, I do not know.
Jul 19, 2023
Jul 19, 2023 at 9:44 AM UTC
A shattered crystalline carpet
From my feet to yours.
But that is not me
Those are not mine.
Those shards,
Sharp and brittle
Are too fragile,
Mine lie beneath veins
Crimson and blue.
Dull yet slowly,
Surely,
Pricking their way through.
They will bleed me dry,
Drop by drop,
Streaked across surfaces,
In agonised glory,
Like an artistic expression,
A sublime thought,
A foretold prophecy,
An undeniable frisson,
But never
A sudden mess
That shatters
So openly across the floor.
Unveiled and bare
To be crunched
Under feet
Or mocked by scathing
Unsympathetic eyes.
That is not me
Those are not mine.
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 2:03 AM UTC
Concepts can be expressed in many ways; and are mostly explored using words, yet words convey the smallest fraction of our true thoughts and feelings.
Perhaps the limitation of language is why I love art and music so ? they are the perfect compliment to a *** of tea.
Mar 19, 2021
Mar 19, 2021 at 1:49 PM UTC
By living alone i am escaping a haunted house. to leave is to be spat out undigested, a bone picked clean of meat but spared the marrow. it was always me who refused to be easily swallowed. it was always you who hated that.
We both know this haunting didn’t seep out from the walls, it was set in every room. (you made sure of that.) in such a space, articles of comfort are more unpleasant than bare walls - far worse than nothingness, they are marks of you. it is true you have built a home. but it is not my home.
Your haunting is pristine, white walls and tasteful furniture. beautiful but unwilling to be dwelt in. in polished mirrors, everyone is dirt. at least a gutted, rotting place could have been somewhere someone like me was loved, some long time ago. even claimed by mould and time such a house is less of a haunting than any space shared with you. at least i can imagine those crumbling walls as having once been the pillars of a life. at least among them i am clean.
if you are a leech, i am water, part of blood but never enough, you consume more than i alone can give you. you consume more than i would part with, even if i could.
if a home with you is a haunting, a house alone is a half dug grave.
but at least theres work left to do.
at least i wont be rotting alongside you.
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 8:50 PM UTC
I've been staying up at night,
Burning the midnight oil.
Thinking about our fights and something didn't feel right...
I don't deserve you...
I do not deserve you in the ways that you treat me.
I know that I was wrong,
and you always played along.
Even when I had hurt you, you still loved me,
we looked like fools.
I don't deserve you...
I do not deserve you in the ways that you treat me.
Aug 21, 2020
Aug 21, 2020 at 4:31 PM UTC
Where the sea kisses the land,
And Luna and Sole coincide,
Between them is a fine, fine, line,
They walk both sides of it,
Love and Hope,
In pure gold dance in diamonds and step in sunshine,
Love holds his hand showing a world to behold,
Their ambiance intoxic worth dying for it,
He could waste his youth forever,
Chasing kites, he finds no better time,
Lets them rub his back, grow in his spine,
Dancing to his own beat, two left feet,
Hope covers his eyes in the heat,
He looks back into the divide,
Where the sea kisses the land,
And Luna and Sole coincide,
There it is again, caressing his chest,
That feeling- it flows like the wind,
He sees Love elegantly dressed alone,
By the cliff-side, wanting to meet the high-tide,
Something broke, and he wanted home,
Chasing Love he screamed and wailed,
Begged her stop, she seemed so very far,
He couldn't stop her despite how he tried,
He couldn't believe it, is it true;
That some feelings can travel too?
So he watched Love meet the sea,
A silver bullet piercing the murky blue,
A shred of light glimmers in depravity,
Prayed for salvation or divine retribution,
For someone to find his center of gravity,
Maybe in the murky blue he'll find absolution,
Maybe in depravity there is the solution,
Maybe amongst the pollution and the convolution there is revolution.
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 9:38 AM UTC
At night the voices die.
Each small creek,
Each small cry.
Each small dance, each small turn
My heart begins to burn.
The silence is loud,
It echos. The echos bound.
I turn to see my lifeless self,
I turn to see my selfless life.
As I cry.
I cry about how I became mine.
There are people to help,
I swear there are,
But for now I have to sit.
Sit and wait.
Wait for life to prevail.
Wait to start my tale...
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 6:48 PM UTC
I feel my self pull apart.
Rationality turns into darkness,
As I go on my searches.
One for sense. One for pain.
As the stars disappear
I give up on hope.
Look into the mirror. I see pain.
Look into my reflection,
I seek help.
Help which isn't there,
But I need.
For waiting and wandering shall never help.
As at least I'm alone.
No one can find me now.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 5:36 PM UTC
Today I sit in sorrow.
Like the crow I sit and watch;
I wait for the next days tommorow,
Waiting, waiting and waiting to be taught.
Why should I live?
I ask myself again.
I live life like I have nobody with.
I cry silently, cry like the wren.
Each tiny cry,
I feel more alive.
All I want is someone who cares,
A Husband a friend?
But now I sit in my lonely lair
Waiting for someone to tend.
But for now I sit alone,
In my thoughts at last alone.
Soon I'll be alone for good
But till then I've got to pretend I'm all good.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 5:24 PM UTC
Forever lost within a world of pain,
Wandering, waiting for the fire to end.
Saturn has protected him well.
All I have is death. Death is my place.
He guards it well, through the day and night.
Enter through the fire, Enter through the pain.
Hold my breath
For I shall breathe fire.
I shall find him, far and wide.
Through hells gates, through all the pain.
Each small step, the closer I come.
As I travel, through heavens gates.
Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC