#maryshelley
Dearest infested, do you too reminisce on that fated night,
When the beauty of your unstitched gaps in that storm’s occasional light
Shone brighter than my heart
As I held your severed hand in marriage.
Recall my fingers slipping under those sheets
Aching to pull you closer to me,
So close, I could feel in between your skin and bone
For me to caress your blackened inner soul.
No other will be capable of feeling the softness of your carcass,
Melted on my fingertips, ever so slightly crawling with goosebumps
From the maggots that shift in your decaying tissue,
Eating away at the core of your sweet bloated insides.
On that very bed, you hosted life beyond your bug-infested corpse,
Your unsaturated beauty animating a love as equal to mine
When lightning struck the tower’s wires
And pierced my heart with cupid's bow.
Oh how that shock stung my nerves!
Manipulating my madman mind into a loving machine,
One that could only want for your rotting embrace,
Which leaves the scent of death in every corner of my brain.
Did you notice the way the dark of the room hugged you so modestly,
As if you were already his?
And then you held out a cold hand towards me
Calling for me to put my ring on your delicate finger.
I remember your instantaneous joy,
Curiosity twinkling in your lifeless eyes,
Blushing from a heart pumping spoiled blood through your frozen veins,
And that smile, only a creature inhuman could smile so divine.
You, my sweet, have captured me in your rusted fingertips
And how you carry yourself across the bleeding carpet,
Dragging your decaying remains into my arms,
Making me unable to withstand being without your infected kiss
How irresistible you are before me
Adorned in white sheets, draped across your discolored chest,
Dried blood blanketing the edges of your lips,
A beauty that’ll never age, forever preserved by death himself!
Devour me now, my love!
Take me to the grave you plan to reside
So that I may lay next to you
Six feet under our wedlock.
Sep 4, 2024
Sep 4, 2024 at 12:56 PM UTC
They met on the equinox like spirits out of an ancient myth,
To paint the leaves gold and kiss the summer goodbye.
For a brief moment, everything did turn shiny and new, solid.
But Frost came, reminding that Nothing Gold Can Stay
And they grew brown and dry.
Winter went by,
Silent and haunting like a ghost:
White sheets thrown on a body made of fire to suffocate the flame.
They met again for a pink and a red moon,
In some mystical manner once more,
To break and wreak havoc
And divide.
The storm drowned Percy on the coasts of Italy, 'heart of hearts' written on the stone.
They sent his to Mary in England,
Its resting place a dusty drawer for years.
At least he didn't turn around to see her,
She didn't disappear.
Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 4:03 PM UTC
"*It was a dreary night of November
That I beheld
the accomplished of my toils
Remember that I am thy creature
I ought to be thy adam
But I am rather the fallen angel
that now drivest enjoy
for no misdeed
everywhere I see bliss
from which
from which
from which I alone, am irrevocably excluded
I was benevolent and good
misery made me a fiend
make me happy
and I, again shall be virtuous
but soon he cried
I shall die and what I now feel
be no longer felt
soon, these burning miseries
will be extinct
I shall ascend fume up higher
triumphantly
and exalt in the agony of the torturing flames
my spirit will sleep in peace
for if it thinks
It will not surely think thus
Farewell.*"
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 12:51 AM UTC
Dream had a glass of wine with me,
Faltered through my reality,
Disrupted my slumber,
Caressed my wandering thoughts
He picked a book, old faded cover,
He turned a musty yellowish page,
Picked out a line and read,
"You, my own creator,abhor me.
What hope do I have? Shall I not
hate those who hate me? Shall I not
lash out at those who wish me ill?
You accuse me of the worst,
yet do not yourself shrink,
from inducing far greater violence on me!"
I woke up. The tale of the lonely monster lay next to me.
The pages were turned but I had turned too.
I need to love my creations. I am a creator of my own.
I can be a classic tale after all.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 11:02 PM UTC
Eat me before I eat you
Staring with **** eyes
I'll be yer mantis
(Who's the *****
Swallow me whole
Devour me alive
Loving it more
Than all the whips of Caesar
Regurgitated hate like
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein
Or pigs feeding on blood and bones
At the trough
Boring my way out thru
Yer ****** ulcer guts
You shouldn't drink like a fish
If you aren't at sea
Weakening your resolve
With surly drunk parasitic me
This is how we show
Our extensive toxic love sensibility
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 8:35 AM UTC