#mummified - Hello Poetry

running to silence the stillness entombs wandering restless hearts.

0

Feb 25

Feb 25, 2026 at 7:59 AM UTC

nivek

entombed

running to silence the stillness entombs wandering restless hearts.

3

There's this weight that numbs my entire body. I rarely ever feel awake enough to call for someone. Smiling here and there, winging my existence. Attempting to attempt to go with the unpredictable flow. It's stripping the lives I invest in, bankrupting me of any connections. Isolated by everything but darkness, seeping in, like an infection. Neglected and forgotten, oh no, there goes my monophobia. Rapidly repeating this cycle of depravity, what a f*cking tragedy. My fortune is as fortunate as living but being brain dead. Instead of ever really feeling here, disconnected, stuck in bed. Like this evil aura projects a demon over the body of a moth. I'm being abused by something, blinding me, i'm lost. I'm no one's friend, no one's love interest, no one's first choice. Not that I want that, but I only really ever just wanted love. But the one thing I wanted, when I could have wished for anything, Is the one thing that constantly gets taken away from me... I just don't want to feel alone, forgotten, on my own... There goes my monophobia...anxiety is elevating. I don't have panic attacks, so where does it all go? Building up an evil to consume my soul? Trapped in a life built on feeling like a fool, not too good not so bad. I want to scream, let my tears stream, but I feel stuck. In the end, I can't even cry, I just move on... And it laughs, playing with it's little brittle fingers Watching me break and mold until I'm cold and too old Like a moth with it's wings ripped off at birth with the wish to fly. This evil thing is using me as a sacrifice and it wants me to die.

0

Apr 2, 2019

Apr 2, 2019 at 12:16 PM UTC

PeacefulMoth

It Wants Me To Die

There's this weight that numbs my entire body. I rarely ever feel awake enough to call for someone. Smiling here and there, winging my existence. Attempting to attempt to go with the unpredictable flow. It's stripping the lives I invest in, bankrupting me of any connections. Isolated by everything but darkness, seeping in, like an infection. Neglected and forgotten, oh no, there goes my monophobia. Rapidly repeating this cycle of depravity, what a f*cking tragedy. My fortune is as fortunate as living but being brain dead. Instead of ever really feeling here, disconnected, stuck in bed. Like this evil aura projects a demon over the body of a moth. I'm being abused by something, blinding me, i'm lost. I'm no one's friend, no one's love interest, no one's first choice. Not that I want that, but I only really ever just wanted love. But the one thing I wanted, when I could have wished for anything, Is the one thing that constantly gets taken away from me... I just don't want to feel alone, forgotten, on my own... There goes my monophobia...anxiety is elevating. I don't have panic attacks, so where does it all go? Building up an evil to consume my soul? Trapped in a life built on feeling like a fool, not too good not so bad. I want to scream, let my tears stream, but I feel stuck. In the end, I can't even cry, I just move on... And it laughs, playing with it's little brittle fingers Watching me break and mold until I'm cold and too old Like a moth with it's wings ripped off at birth with the wish to fly. This evil thing is using me as a sacrifice and it wants me to die.

27

longing to be liquid a restless wanderer let loose the lines unfurled the main with severed heart set solitary course on an uncaring sea adrift the lonely sailor preserved remains from his lips the final note love's lost refrain

0

Mar 23, 2016

Mar 23, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC

denel-kessler

Tiger Shark

longing to be liquid a restless wanderer let loose the lines unfurled the main with severed heart set solitary course on an uncaring sea adrift the lonely sailor preserved remains from his lips the final note love's lost refrain

14

I lie here, slack of face Winding my fingers through the Strings like they were bandages Mummified in my own sound.

0

Jan 8, 2015

Jan 8, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC

Porto-graffiti

Mummified

I lie here, slack of face Winding my fingers through the Strings like they were bandages Mummified in my own sound.

4