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#grim
Eerie are the shadows stirred long side the edge of an old mans bed. Whispers wafting through the air the sirens singing words unsaid. And from the twisting, twirling wind A beauty known by only dead. A skull emerges from the dark the cloth was wrapping round the head. A dress made of a spiders silk the bones a bright pastel. The calming, cooling, quiet trill emerging from the shadows dwell. Then on a voice as soft cotton carried by a churches bell, the writer pens his last remarks and only they will speak his spell
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May 2
May 2, 2026 at 1:54 PM UTC
The Shadows Stirred
What mirthless mastication To sup upon the heart To hold it all together Just to rip it all apart While all my teeth are grinding Dining on a bloodied score It beats upon my tongue Still demanding I eat more While the river from my chest And the hole from which it flows Drains me of my laughter And all the love I've shown To wet a barren garden At the dirt beneath my feet Where once I dreamt a verdant space Until I learned deceit Of the self and of the other And the many others still, The corpses line the copse And there are bones yet on the hill Beyond a base direction I'm debased while I consume A gory fabrication Of this ***** I exhume
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Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 2:35 AM UTC
almost romantic
A tiny whisper sings, leave it, I’m not feeling it. the weight of lethargy begins to sting, yet the only thought crossed is escaping further into the hole, dug to now seem to resemble a home; and the outside world now a place where this comfort seems to go to die. back to reality? not if I make my own. another needle stabbed into my elbow’s fold, another high chased knowing I’ll never feel the way I did before. your face erasing from my mind as a sinister grin takes over my face. all I think about is getting high, seemingly justifying my withdrawing from this race. I’m a victim, you see, not someone to blame. however, the moment I thought I could leave it all behind, crashing down it all came and showed me it’s not easy to crack the code to your own sanity; leaving it all behind, getting the demon off your back. it’s simple: just give in. leave your morals at the door and let the darkside breathe in. leave the worries of living life free. you’re shackled by choice, and this hell is now your destiny.
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Jan 19
Jan 19, 2026 at 12:34 PM UTC
The Hole I Call Home
Come and weep, Silently, tears will guide you to sleep, As your lover comes to know, The grave of water's undertow. Another claimed, In the name of explorer's fame, A name, that once you pass on, Will be all but gone. Not a soul has ever carried it as close, As you have for so long. Don't be foolish, Staring at the sea, He is truly gone, Even when the fleet comes rolling in, You won't have that kiss at dawn, He promised you as he left. So hang your lonesome head, The worst is yet to come, Fill his grave with sea things, It's all that's left of him anymore. Your life together, Now ancient lore, Lock it up, Before you wake up.
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Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 1:22 PM UTC
The Widow's Chant
Believe me officer, I know the crows. I know their black feathers, Their call is cold, It terrifies me. I used to count them, 2 is safe, 3 is a warning, 4 is an omen, 5 is too late, 6 is a ****** Six means death. So what was I to do, When I counted seven up in the roost? I blew them back to hell, No more counting, No more omens. Is killing those **** birds, Really a crime?
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May 4, 2025
May 4, 2025 at 9:19 PM UTC
Killing The Crows
In the darkest hours, when no light can be found Thoughts twist and bite, writhe and fester As sleep escapes and eludes all struggling grasps
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Apr 4, 2025
Apr 4, 2025 at 4:11 AM UTC
Insomnia
spongey bones ten little toes not a single cry is heard. i did not sing when brought into this world. bright blue eyes grandfather in a tie silent doctors grim and telling lies. "we have no reason to believe that she is in any pain" twisted tendons agony, unending reshaping, like im made of clay sterile tubes and lights was all I knew, for so many nights a macabre expanse of leather and metal in a cruel dance the clicking like the knell at my guillotine fear strangling with cold hands while the sheets witness suppressed sobs she is not yet one but her torture is not close to done.
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Mar 22, 2025
Mar 22, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC
11/12
In Rome, There is silence. Church bells lay still, Once grand city, Echoing the trills of black birds. Their song, a lost cry of those who died. In the deathly silence, Of the plague.
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Mar 6, 2025
Mar 6, 2025 at 10:10 AM UTC
Silence Of The Plague
I walked in the evening, Throughout the widow's woods. Following the rabbling brooks, Down to the lonesome cliff spire. On the edge I spied a man, A ruffled suit, head in his hands. Slowly, I approached him, And sat by his sorrow. 'For what are you here sir, For why have you come to shed tears over the edge, Straight to the rocky jaws of the gorge's floor?' He raised his head from it's rest, Turned it to look at I. 'My friend I have come for death, His sweet relief and eternal rest.' Widened did my eyes, 'But friend, it is not your time, I see a pool of youth still in this eye which you gaze with.' He sighed, looked back to the edge, 'Your eyes lie to you my friend, My years of youth are gone, But before I go take this letter, I want not my last thoughts to go o'er these falls.' So I did, then once it laid safe in my hands, I left, And so did the man, But left not to his home, But to the end.
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Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 10:43 AM UTC
But To His End
Come flower child, Join the rest, In the autumn fields abloom. Come flower child, Join the patch, In the rolling hills of autumn. Come flower child, Lay to rest, Just like all the others. Who came to the autumn fields, Lined with stones.
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Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 1:54 PM UTC
Flower Child
Gravedigger, gravedigger, Why do you spend you evenings, Dredging in the yard? Gravedigger, gravedigger, Does this break your heart, That nobody else wanted to do the ***** work, So they left you to shovel through the mud?
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Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 10:31 AM UTC
Gravedigger
She asked me what it’s like to fall in love with someone that previously lost their first love to Grim. I explained that unlike other couples that work together to lay one brick on another to make their own home. I’ve been repairing a house after it was bombed. This house had marks from the bombing here and there. Deep down in her heart there is a room title first love. It’s a room I should never open up even if everyone in this world opens up to look at it. I’ll set my foundation in this home. And remind her that while repairing this house. She won’t have to worry about remodeling ever being done on that room….
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Jun 24, 2024
Jun 24, 2024 at 4:03 AM UTC
House In The Graveyard 🪦
Our chariot soared through the tunnel And from out of the dark, light. The sight of the city erupting With fires' glare burning bright, Venom like a snake's bite. Vast buildings careening down, As we maneuvered around them The air was thick with smoke And the smell of lead & sulfur, The ground shook in violence. We landed in a clearing, The end was close at hand The limits to see it, subjective; For many laid dead in our stead, Many enemies & siblings come to head, And long did we have to tread before rest. I unfurled the flag And hoisted it up overhead, Flying high on the mast. I said my prayers And made my peace, Before the rain began. All around me was storming, Shutters battered marble Amid crys for no quarter- Blood was to be our recompense
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Jun 20, 2024
Jun 20, 2024 at 5:57 PM UTC
That's It For The Other One!
I spent my life, Dancing around Tragedy. Tried to claw My way back to the surface, But the light Never showed itself today. I wake from My dreams, With a heavy feeling, Haunting me Heart breaking, And a deep sadness, That left the very core Of me frozen with the reality A stark realization That love was never meant to be. Miserable as can be, I accept some things never change, But I can’t will it away. Tragedy is here to stay.
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Jan 4, 2024
Jan 4, 2024 at 11:43 AM UTC
dancing around tragedy
He came up to me this guy and introduced   himself "Hello", he said, "I'm You" I looked at him uncomprehendingly, even a   little afraid I thought 'How can you be me, I'm me... not   you' It's like he'd come to take me over He was after my pronouns He wanted to own me It was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers Or the Angel of Death, the Grim Reaper come   to get me I was about to take off running down the   road I thought "You can't take me, I... I'm already   taken Then I thought 'If you're me then who am I,   I'm what then.... Maybe that was it, maybe I was a What now And he... he was a What-not or a not-What "You! You're You", I said back to him a little    doubtfully "You", he said again this time with emphasis,   "You O'Brien" I looked at him closely "You, you're You O'Brien" I said slowly confirming what he'd   just said/told me Then it hit me You!... Hugh the Borg from Star Trek (the Next Generation LoL), that episode the Borg collective Guy becomes an individual "You're Hugh" I said greatly relieved, you're    Hugh, Hugh with a H It was like I'd been released 'So you're not   me after all'. When he'd gone though I thought, maybe if he had of being me he might have made a better job of being me than I did.
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Feb 12, 2023
Feb 12, 2023 at 11:23 AM UTC
A man named You (pronouns)
Mundane celebrations to mask our ever closing demise Working 9 to 5s, never fully enjoying our limited lives Never knowing which day will be our last So we choose to slave away for a world That we will never fully experience In the hopes our successors will enjoy the fruits of our labor But inevitably enjoy the same propaganda pamphlets that their parents once read And slave for a world, that their successors might enjoy All the while, the reapers scythe sharpens.
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Sep 4, 2021
Sep 4, 2021 at 6:06 PM UTC
Inevitably
The chalky Cliffs of Dover crumble in my fist. Tucked away neatly in my pocket. I have the power to become a person completely in control. The tension seething in my chest no longer. All I need is the key. A simple motion not readily accepted by the masses. 'Tis not we who wait for the dust to settle but for the dust to settle we. The reuptake of life hidden but always near. We care not for the hands that pass the life from person to person. For they could be from the grimiest of grim and still our hands are cupped for their foul crooked benevolence. We are gods and what is purity without the soot and **** and **** to define it. Synthetic courage and emotional restraint what more could the people want. Only a few care for the real me, the anxiety, the truth. Why pander the rest when I have complete control within a plastic seal, tucked neatly in my pocket.
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Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 9:54 PM UTC
A Burst of Self Control.
The man delves in the grim settings of rooms, Tickling bones of the dark, Perusing silences so beautiful and monstrous, Gazing at oddities so dead and alive. These settings communicate a bunch of languages, Sometimes, even gibberish. Wrapped in a trance, the man becomes a tune in the song. He becomes the friend of the loner. He becomes the itch of the room. Pouring out his reality, he becomes the air of the room.
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Dec 29, 2020
Dec 29, 2020 at 4:35 PM UTC
Grim settings
Where does it end? Where does it begin? Is there a start at all? Or has it just always been? The cycle starts again. Feels like I’ve been in this place before, On the ground crawling on all fours. Another lap around this body, Swallowing the serpents tail. It hisses just behind me, Covering every track I make, When my eyes turn to see the trail, It’ll be consumed by the snake. My own ouroboros. Muscles expand and contract, Pulling me further in. I feel myself dissolving, The future is the past again. **** the lights, Take my eyes, I don’t want to see, The repeat of me. My own ouroboros.
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Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 8:03 PM UTC
Suffering Of The Eternal
Everything seemed to be going against him Everything seemed grim Even the brightest of lights looked dim The burden on his mind had reached the brim But then he found a silver lining in this horror It resulted in the birth of a poet and author Now there was no time he considered a bad time. All it was was more content to write about and rhyme!
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Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 9:01 AM UTC
The Birth of a Poet
It’s true you live you die, And in-betweens there is life. Some happy some sad, Some good some bad. Sometimes uplifting and glorious in your life Sometimes dark and soul destroying. Time does not go on, when I am abroad. Collecting souls of the listed names. Name, title, wealth nor education matter, when the strings of life are cut. When your time is up its up. No bargains to be struck or deals to be done, Life just stops dead. The end. What you say, so short a life I need more time To amass more wealth or power. Alas it is not so for all you do Is grab and take. You seldom care or look or listen. To the world you hurt, you miss her dying, in your haste you do not see her cries of pain. So few see what most are missing. Take care of her for I may reap your soul, but as I walk through out your land, you must by now know that you're the ones, who **** your land, sea the air you breath. Through greed and power, into the mire of wanton destruction. Most will not know what they had until it’s gone. A few good men and women try. Try while your world cries out for help. Still I walk through this land, collecting the souls of a few good men and women for as I have said when your time is up its up and my book grows thinner by the hour.
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Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 12:57 PM UTC
The Grim Reaper
I start to ponder the grim On particularly slow days That if I can't be here to stay Just thinking with a simple whim That the sun will still shine it's rays Life would go on If I were to die today
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May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 4:06 PM UTC
If I Were to Die Today
Pages hanging on By a breadth of A mere molecule Paper hearts And discarded minds Holding on to life By a brief tether Sawed, By auspicious grim.
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May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 2:41 AM UTC
Holding on.