#hangning
They float these pink balloons
Strings hanging down, they
Sway back and forth like
Leaves in the wind.
Weighted down never to reach
Beyond their moment, never to
Fly free, these pink balloons,
Swaying in the wind.
Scuffing across the floor, neither
gravity keeps them grounded, or
These pink balloons never to
Let this hanging moment soar.
I have many pretty balloons, my
Favorate is pink, pink is the colour
Of flesh, a beautiful tone. One
I like to cut and bleed, as they hang
There slowly strangled floating on air.
What will take them, floating along
Scuffing feet plead for the ground,
But I like to pierce the flesh, like a
Balloon life does deflate slowly
Then gone as if never there.
I have many balloons suspended, some
Stagnant still, while others twitch.
Floating just above life, gliding
Closer to death as they hang upon
String neither here or there.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
Christmas is upon the masses
The white flakes fall, but
Hanging
Swaying,
Dripping
Upon the crisp white
A puddle frozen of crimson red,
Baubles of the deceased
Upon a branch, eyes bleed
Baubles,
Red,
Sightless
Eyes, cracked within, as blood
Drips between the cracks,
He hangs them with tinsel rope
Glistening in the sun,
Inscribed,
"Merry Christmas"
Still fresh from the cut
Blood like a leaking tap
Drip,
Drip,
Drips
Upon pristine snow,
"He is the tinsel hanger"
He waits until the white covers
Then he begins his
Christmas list,
He thinks them naughty in is eyes
So they now sway above the ground,
There is not always one,
For what is a tree with but
One
Bauble
Hanging,
More must adorn a single tree,
"Happy Christmas"
"Died Smiling"
"Jolly Dead"
Were his trademarks upon dead flesh,
Birds perch upon limp shoulders
Pecking, upon the dead,
The last things heard,
As he records his crime,
*"Please don't **** us"*
"Have a heart"
"A heart"
"A HEART"
Pleeeasss....
And then there is but muffled sound
"Thump"
Lifelessness now upon the ground,
Another Bauble
For him to hang with tinsel
Above the freshly powdered ground,
He is the Tinsel hanger
He thinks the white gives purity
To his twisted deeds
Pray* that your not just left
A Christmas bauble,
Hanging,
Swaying,
Lifeless
Above freshly white snow, because
You'll not be alone this cold night,
Family will also be hanging around, tinsel shimmering off moonlight.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
I used to follow every echo
bellowing beneath
the subconscious frame work
that where
hanging in my empty halls..
Before I realised that within these
representations of hollow
imitations.
Were just blank obscure nothingness's
swallowing me within a
kaleidoscope of false
pretext.
And then I saw that there was no picture
as the frame never existed
beneath the
echoes just shadows of insecurity...
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 4:22 PM UTC
I could never swing from a 0..
cos I'm always plus one,,
I'm never alone, the weight to much to carry
to an early grave,
if I ever thought of that moment,
they'd be my wings giving me flight.
I'd hang on for the breath on sunrise knowing
that there is a new beam of balance.
That id not be dust,but I'd be a fresh breath
on the new day.
I'll neve be a zero hanging limp,
as im always plus one.
Which the all of you breathing me through
each daw, knowing there is more
to keep me going, even though I'm low you keep
me flying high enough to float
and not fall where a hang alone, silent...
Know I breath each dawn and I'm never alone.
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 6:59 PM UTC