#possession
I'll take you out like postmates, my message post entropy.
Your presence be bound to mine when im post atrophy.
When you're still entangled even post session.
I'll order you like apostrophe as a "Post" trophy.
Because it enounciates possession.
You can see the writing on the wall, but you'll be writhing when I fall.
Post human skill as I tie up loose ends for my posthumous ****
Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 8:58 AM UTC
Lost in the darkness
This fire in my belly can't warm my hands
Or show the path forward
I slice at the black
But it floods back to every gap I carve
I can feel it guiding my knife
It has hands of its own
Feb 14
Feb 14, 2026 at 9:03 PM UTC
Say the great old birds, one who haven't seen the peaks and ocean creaks,
Not utilized his life in any means,
I am that poor fella Bruh, in cage still alive
Waiting for emancipation and my first sky dive
Was sleeping, heard a blissful susurration and foehn in my dreams
Soothed me deep down my soul and sent me into utopian greens
Huh, what an outstanding death is sleep!
The bliss I had, wonder me into ground to hurriedly seep
Maybe this way the dream will become forever
The freedom! Alas, bet in this life granted never
Berries I would have with petrichor in bulks
Still, I had them but with rotten lungs
I desire for more sleep to feel this,
Long for death before I go foolish,
Have it started to leak out of my mind the good old memories
The fear and anxiety curb me for I am going crazy
My beak broken as I hit the bars with all the hopes of liberty shattered
The demons visit to get amused with angel's facade
Don't they feel, don't they hear me?
The pain and agony through I have been
Not wanna be a bird for my resurrection
Seems to be my soul's demonic possession
Me little bird, the believer of you Almighty
Can't you decipher what I speak?
You prolly might again be my imagination
Is The only job I have, waiting for my cremation?
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 12:21 PM UTC
Met you
Wanted you
Tricked you
Got you
Will kidnap and tie you up if you try to run away
Dec 5, 2025
Dec 5, 2025 at 10:04 AM UTC
I balter to this hypnotic tune
My feet tangle and stumble
But I don't stop grinning—
Even laying on the mud
For I am too drunk
To have control over my own feet
So the universe has cruelly blessed me
By drawing that tattoo on my brain
The bow of its violin
Pierces through my skull
Ingrained into my fate like my skin
And controlling my lifeless feet
To these cyclical hymns
That only end
When my legs stumble
And rises no more
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 1:13 PM UTC
When I wake up,
it is void.
Then the room
unfolds around me –
a cold stroke of reality.
It brushes my skin,
crawling up my legs,
slowly warming as it spreads.
A hand, unseen,
caresses reality
into my chest.
It straddles me,
then softly grips my neck.
The pulse in my ears – slow –
becomes the drums of war,
calling a name:
Ishtar.
It’s time.
Breathe for me,
sweat for me.
Let the footsteps
of your fight
feed the ground.
Soak it in my will –
become my altar.
Your sword
bears my truth.
Crescent moons –
my mark –
cover your back.
Eight-pointed stars –
my sign –
won’t leave you in the dark.
Sep 4, 2025
Sep 4, 2025 at 8:59 AM UTC
The storm washes the syllables away,
crashing against the walls we built,
until only what we carry within remains.
My hands close around the bars.
I cannot be closer.
I cannot be farther.
That is the essence of restraint:
it separates.
“Am I my brother’s keeper?” Cain asked.
Am I the keeper of your prison? I ask.
Keeper—
a beautiful word.
To keep someone:
is it to watch them through bars,
to toss them a little mercy,
or to ask instead: why bars at all?
If I were the Keeper,
I would tear down your prison,
refuse to accept that you are captive—
even if the whole world were nothing
but a prison.
The role given to me
would not change what I am.
I would ask nothing in return,
not because of you,
but because of me.
It’s something you won’t find
in lexicons or lessons.
It is either there, or it is not.
Where it comes from—
soul, blood, or memory—
I cannot say.
But it feels as if I swallowed a star
I once was,
and now it burns inside me.
Every word I speak
passes through it—
along a starry path, like Nimród.
I do not walk in the light.
The light walks in me.
Every contradiction holds a truth.
I carry them all.
I blindfold myself.
I place you on the scales.
If you weigh more than a feather,
I let you go—
to rise as you will.
I am not your judge,
not your executioner.
I am the Keeper
of truth, of freedom, of myth.
There is a silent verdict.
But you—
you would watch me
through the bars.
You would keep me,
instead of being my Keeper.
You love freedom,
if it’s yours to have.
You love control,
the sweetness of vulnerability.
You would not lift me up
to where you stand.
If I found a little light in my cell,
you would come at once
and claim it as yours.
But what if I carve the walls
with ink—only of you?
If every brick were a fragment of you—
would you tear the walls down then,
just to keep it for yourself?
So I could show you
how it feels
to choose to stay.
And we build the altar of ruin,
again.
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 10:16 AM UTC
There is no love
And there's no hate
But what is left for me to feel
Is too complicated to calculate
Impossible to translate
In this hearts present state
A mind entwined
A jumbled mess
Shrouded in a new darkness
Nights turn sleepless
As I become a man possessed
By the hopeless
©2025
Jun 20, 2025
Jun 20, 2025 at 9:29 PM UTC
I fear a ghost has taken hold of me;
I feel its presence when I tend to wake
From eerie dreams that blur reality,
A haunting feeling that I cannot shake.
It steals from me the things I once enjoyed,
And leaves an empty feeling in their place,
As if my life were something to be toyed,
Then left alone and broken in its case.
I'm at the mercy of an angry kid
Who died alone, afraid and far too young.
Too scared to face his fears, he only hid,
And choked upon the words stuck on his tongue.
Shackled to him, I try but can't escape;
To bear the burden of his sins, my fate.
Apr 23, 2025
Apr 23, 2025 at 4:57 PM UTC
Break through my shiny membranes.
Strip my soul raw
and stalk me insane.
Sink into my tissues.
Your lustful caw echoes
deep in my brains coves.
You never left but yet I miss you.
Pleasure finally reigns, the exodus of pain.
Make lace of my violin veins
Inhuman sounds in every primal refrain.
You are ecstasy tainted with hell,
If denied possession of you,
in the sweet shackles of my cells.
Apr 5, 2025
Apr 5, 2025 at 9:15 AM UTC
“What is your necklace?”
Maria asks.
Such a loaded question,
for it is not a necklace at all.
It is a demon,
and I am possessed.
Fruit flavors tickle
my damaged taste buds;
nicotine still breaking through.
Constantly nauseous;
choking on the taste
of burnt cotton…
I cannot breathe
without this noose–
heavy around my neck.
Feb 6, 2025
Feb 6, 2025 at 12:02 PM UTC
Long you've been deceived
and tormented. In vain. It stands
open - you had what it takes.
At last, continue onward.
The final lock is shattered.
You will make no mistake,
no falter, precise and swift.
The way your grit foretold.
But be on guard and keep your rapt
concentration - your vigilant heart -
to close the trail with no lapse.
It's all you ever wanted.
It's all within your grasp.
It's all that ever mattered.
It's how you’ll stay entrapped.
Oct 2, 2024
Oct 2, 2024 at 7:34 AM UTC
Love is the last manifestation of satan
She’s a crimson rose, a veil of fragility
A hidden thorn, a well-kept secret
Her sweet floral embrace cultivates a garden untamed
With weeds budding, obstructing her angelic guise
And soon she whispers of corruption
Disguised as an everlasting symbol of affection.
Her enchanting petals blind and burn
And her touches of devotion fill with insatiable need.
As the weeds wrap around her stem
she screams of blessed corruption
Divine tyranny, Hopeless possession
Sep 19, 2024
Sep 19, 2024 at 9:16 AM UTC
She,
caugh ***** but at rest, posing fully attentive,
in her favored chair, a Mies van der Rohe of a
leathery chocolate color, which admittedly is most
accepting of the human frame most welcomingly
but She, gazes relaxedly & rigid, unflinching fixed,
upon on of our Friday flower self-giftations,
an array of eye filling pink and white peonies,
that have mesmerized, entranced and made
her rigidly relaxed, peaceful whimsy on her face
the seasons of life are short, the season of peonies,
is an abbreviation in human terms, perhaps a dot,
a single month a year, in truth overshadowed by
their competition, overly popularized cherry blossoms,
but these 5 P’s, are in her brief of, most pleasuring
pink peony prized possession, remarked upon
with always trace sadness throughout a diminished,
perma~lacking, imbalanced, rest-of-the year, with
sighs emanating from where her essence resides
minutes pass, I too, pass by, dithering to/fro other rooms,
but She, transfixed, breathing quietly, she neither notices,
or acknowledges my temporal interruptions in her moment
of possession by the robust busting opening of the flowers,
an eclectic, electric charging of amentia, for she is
enwrapped and entranced
in an emotional place only that She,
this woman,
shares with no one else, a Universe tiny but all encompassing,
her eyes winnowed and windowed upon the extravagance of
the beauty that comes so briefly…
May 6, 2024
May 6, 2024 at 12:06 PM UTC
Look at me,
Full of frills.
My milk skin
Gives you thrills.
Spinning around,
I show my treasure.
I know quite little,
But you,
Know better.
I obey and play,
On the bed I lay.
In your arms I sway,
On the shelf,
I stay.
Nov 24, 2023
Nov 24, 2023 at 3:55 PM UTC
A bad hand delt, a crippling hopelessness felt
In possession of a heart that can't and won't melt
Whipped unmercifully with a tanned hide belt
So often in fact it no longer leaves a welt
Only a lonely darkness under this human pelt
Always knew when the fear was near by how bad it smelt
And out of respect, or maybe terror, every time it arrived, I knelt
©2023
Nov 17, 2023
Nov 17, 2023 at 7:06 PM UTC
#Selmhem Naise
*She stands at its edge
looking back
looking into.
Who is ‘unafraid’ enough
to come near the edge;
Her searching eyes ask
as she looks back.
You see you, girl—
through my eyes
as I see how alone you are
There..
at the edge of it.
I am you also—
standing at the edge.
Wondering.
Is there enough
love in this world
to swallow up this fear?
Apparently there is
tho often
only seen
clearest
from the edge.*
#
Nov 10, 2020
Nov 10, 2020 at 1:23 AM UTC
bearing a face i can barely recall
wearing a body that falls through your arms
i was born with these phantom limbs
hands that can't hold anything
grip that won't leave fingerprints
nothing in my possession
i'll haunt the halls that were held from me
always at arm's reach
never in my possession
Aug 10, 2021
Aug 10, 2021 at 4:06 AM UTC
full moon, nervous edge, sweat beads,
my lungs are bruised and beaten,
and my heart is made of bone.
why, pomegranates bleed,
sigh and remain uneaten,
calcify or rot alone.
i saw persephone cry
and all the angels alight,
stark and sad in burning flame.
a soft weeping right nearby,
holy fires of the night,
and i swear i heard my name.
possession requires a host,
but i couldn't catch my breath
stumbling through the graveyard.
i don't believe in ghosts,
but the awesome fear of death
caught me lonely and off guard.
i will try to describe it:
in the face of this feeling,
your guts are on the table,
your insides exposed, moonlit,
mine were cold and revealing,
dead, skeletal, and mangled.
Jul 21, 2021
Jul 21, 2021 at 1:45 AM UTC
claiming to possess a “non existent” flick which “supposedly” documents “an affair that never was”, you lit that strike anywhere match.
soon, all of rome was burning🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
darling grace, did you stop for a moment to wonder how a meandering earthly river could physically touch the infallible sky?
things swing from unconditional love to bitter hate. anger, angst and heartache replace joy, banter and sizzling moments of wanton love making.
at a distance, i see the setting orange sun behind the arches of the golden gate.
the space between us
no bridge can ever connect ~~
as memories fade
© 2021
Jul 3, 2021
Jul 3, 2021 at 11:44 AM UTC
Give me light
that the poppy receives
Give me Rain
to quench my thirst
As I hunger and thirst
for you
I sit here and ask when you’ll return
Slowly,
My skin cracks and my heart aches
As my bones protrude,
I’ve begun to wither into a corpse
of ruin and sallow skin
I want you;
Your rays, Your light.
Burn me until my skin detests —
Screaming
for all you give
Give me all
I hope to receive
May 4, 2021
May 4, 2021 at 4:14 AM UTC
"DRUNK IN LOVE."
Gradually I'm getting possessed, obsessed by thy love--craft, emotionally flew his heart reaching out to her's. He's intoxicated drunk in love.
Lost in the
lovesome thought of her's. His
heart is detained underneath
the water of
her soul.
So we're
sensitively
soul mates.
We met as 2 rivers confluences.
Indescribe-able
what these mean.
#C9_fm
Apr 20, 2021
Apr 20, 2021 at 10:45 AM UTC