#rotting
The thought of death sat so sweetly behind my lips.
"I just want to die." I say as I open my eyes upon wake.
Why is it so hard to breathe?
Why is it so hard to live?
The pain lingers within and as the time goes by, I feel heavier.
My soil is drying up; I'm so thirsty.
There must've been something in the water
I'm rotting away.
It may be necessary.
I must see it to the end.
4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 8:51 PM UTC
Sadness of a dark
empty soul, weeping what
they sow, a soul so fragile
it shakes with fear, a
bone so narrow its tall
and clear, a mind so
frozen it cant be
unbroken, my shoulder
so heavy these burdens
grow a garden, My minds
a mess the worlds
like chess, All thats
left is a sea full
of stress, So
Swallowed in madness,
all thats left is sadness
a sea full of tears
and so shallow happiness
You cut your skin You
Rip out your heart, a
soulless bound that tears me
at the seams, shattering
all the remaining of my
dreams, The ocean engulfs
you, you’re not you anymore.
all you can do is struggle & drown
There is no way to escape this poisonous
grasp. To the sin of Gluttony
we shall all suffer.
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 9:16 AM UTC
I consume the particles
that nobody dares to touch.
I consume the ash
Left off from a burnt body.
I gnaw at the bones
You left behind with rotting meat.
I claw away whatever I can't eat.
I consume the parts of brain
That God could never reach.
I drink your blood
Until you can no longer feel.
I watch you decompose
Right beneath my feet,
I watch as you become
A pile of rotting peat.
I will consume what is left
'Till you can no longer weep.
May 9
May 9, 2026 at 2:06 AM UTC
it is easier
to keep the rind on.
to look at the orange
on the counter
and pretend
it isn't going soft
from the inside out.
we think we're
saving ourselves
from the stinging spray,
the way the juice
burns the small cuts
on our thumbs.
but the longer
we leave it unpeeled,
the more
the sweetness rots.
and eventually,
we aren't avoiding
a mess—
we are living
in one.
don't wait
until the fruit
is too far gone
to share.
peel it now.
let it sting.
at least
you will finally
know the taste
of the truth.
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 10:55 PM UTC
I tasted a dream.
Not like the kind that flits behind your eyelids,
but one that fills your mouth,
seeps into your lungs,
makes you realize you’ve been breathing smoke your whole life
without knowing it had a name.
It was a place, not made of perfection,
but of possibility.
And possibility is more intoxicating than any promise,
because I had never been offered even that.
It bloomed on my tongue,
sweet in ways I didn’t know the world could be.
I hadn’t known silence could mean safety.
That eyes could look without measuring.
That streets could exist without whispering threats in every crack.
That names like mine didn’t have to come with apology.
Home was barbed wire wrapped in anthem,
a hymn to erasure sung in every streetlight,
every flag that demanded your silence.
It wasn’t even a whole mouthful.
Just a touch---
a trace,
the way a fruit bruised open
perfumes the air but does not last.
That’s how fast it left.
Because I was only on loan.
A borrowed heartbeat.
A visitor in my own liberation.
And I, a child still,
with legs not long enough to stay,
hands too small to hold on,
am pulled backward by forces
that do not speak in kindness.
And the nightmare,
oh, it waited.
Patient as death,
hungry as fire.
It didn’t disappear just because I saw the sun.
It watched me bask
and smiled
with teeth.
I live with the aftertaste
of what the world could be
rotting sweet
on the back of my tongue.
And try not to starve
from remembering.
Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 3:56 AM UTC
Conflicted emotions tear at me
I watch day by day as the people grow content around you
Home to your mind of wonders and intelligence
You're amazing at everything in every way
You design worlds and sing the work of experts
Every question you answer, and object you craft
With your hands so delicate yet steady
How do you do it?
How do you move each day without struggle
Crafting things of wonder from your mind
How do you not struggle to wake each day like I do?
You're like me; we're similar.
We're human,
Or we are supposed to be
I am disconnected
Forever forced to watch from afar as the people sing your praise
Adore the very air you breathe
the growing collection of awards and medals
The expanding influence of your gift
And I would rather die than hurt you
Yet I can't help it
I can't stop myself from praying for a sombre end
For a chance where you falter at something
Where I can come back to the light
Because I did so well
Once I was there besides you
Good enough to stand by your side and shine just as bright
Yet as you sung louder
While you drain me of my song
You drain me of the song I taught you to sing
And now you're flourishing
Happy and content
A poisonous late bloomer
While I rot
The gardener of my own demise
I regret every tear and sweat I put into growing you
Though I could never hate you
I will fade with time
Yet you will grow and take over the garden I had started
Each seed I had planted will be over taken
The **** in my heart
You've ruined my garden
Yet I can't find myself able to pull you out
For your petals make such sweet tea.
Oct 30, 2025
Oct 30, 2025 at 3:21 AM UTC
nostalgia feels like a rotting tooth
and it won't come out; no matter how many times i
wiggle and twist
and pull at it
or when my father tells me he's
going to tie a string around it and
slam the door
or my mother threatens to send me to the dentist
its too big of a problem for an ordinary person
im attached to the rot
she is my friend; i watched her grow
and she grew with me too
plus, ive never liked leaving things behind
and i remember-
how? can i remember her if she is nothing
how? will i be able to understand the present and survive the future
without the context of the past
the rot will spread and I will endure it
even so, it hurts
Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 8:40 AM UTC
Deep down, I've rotted,
Pieces of me fall away,
Rusty sheet metal plates.
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 10:49 AM UTC
I push my fear behind my eyes
Further back than I can see
My dream has been eaten by lies
But I am no fig tree
I'm an orange watching my brethren
Ants chewing on their rotting skin
Their future, I was supposed to share in
Their peel, greenish of sin
I'm watching a rotting fig tree
That I know someone must've seen before
I mouth her, she mouths me
Is this all I'm waiting for?
My future may be determined
A rotting orange is all it may be
I thought it was self-determined
But I am no fig tree.
Apr 6, 2025
Apr 6, 2025 at 2:10 PM UTC
A fire in my veins, it burns and spreads,
No solace found, my pain instead.
It courses through me, an unseen dread,
My heart beats hindered, slow and dead.
I gasp for air, my breath a plea,
To regulate, find sanctuary.
Isolation's grip, it smothers me,
Abandoned here, in misery.
The spreading burn, a growing blight,
My center bleeds, devoid of light.
Rot consumes me, without a doubt,
From inside out, it spills about.
My vision blurs, my words a mess,
Organs churn, enduring stress.
A fleeting glance, at moments past,
Life lived too fast, it couldn't last.
The forecast grim, my future bleak,
A question haunts, my soul to seek:
Was it all worth this fleeting chase?
I shunned the breaks, embraced the race.
Lost in the maze, of fleeting fears,
My peers' applause, drowned out my tears.
Exhausted, striving, never to stand out,
My grotesque form, a silent shout.
"Leave me," I begged, a final plea,
But now the burn consumes, sets me free.
Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 9:09 PM UTC
Peach peels and sticky fingers
Blanket pulled from a cooking body
Its worthless
Rotting full of maggots of poison
Im growing flowers
Bright greys
Unseen by any
Eyes protrude from my ankles
They see the rainbow
They watch the blood drip
How it sinks into the floor
Sipping
Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 9:19 AM UTC
All I seem to remember
Are the hollow eyes
Peeking from behind damp walls
Walls dripping with misery and the cold winters day
In a land where no flowers break through the heavy clay
Even though they try their best
The beast always catches them at the stem
Tears the blossoms out in calm rage
The feeling sold by its empty eyes
Like a useless spy
Wandering the streets sick with smoke
And liquor
Under starfull skies
Praying to God for a comet
To yell my wish at:
“Oh,to be more than just a clump of cells and flesh and bones
Patching together my soul
Creating something mine
The only thing I can call so“
Because I know each breach carved with the steady occupation
I could lead your hands into the gaps dug by
My litospheric plates moving
shifting
colliding
Far too soon
Now I have forests and mountain ranges
Peeking out of my veins
Spreading the dark ecosystem of my mind
I can feel the frost and the gloom biting trough my skin
The fog covering my every inch
Fangs dangerously close to bones
The only part clean of the parasites
Unlike my tunnel-disrupted skin
The penetrated veins sticking out of it
Slowly decaying away
While my heart fills my leaking body with new blood
Sisyphean effort
The life that goes to waste
But stains the flesh a vibrant red
My half-alive corpse
The only thing radiant on this grey lifeless street
The monster slowly kneels down to my side
Pierces its talon through my bone
Sells me to death
Leaves my core to rot
Defeating its defences like an unknown weapon
Injecting terror into the cold white stuff tangled around my heart
stuck around my veins
It sets me onto fire
Letting its own creation burn
For the sake of its pleasures
As the luscious woods burn to just skeletons and dust
The hollow eyes filling with the shadows of the light
As it snarls
A twisted caricature of a smile
Nov 12, 2024
Nov 12, 2024 at 1:46 PM UTC
People surround me
They have a different energy than me
They drain me
They make me mentally exhausted
Too exhausted
To the point where I want to lock myself up
To the point where I don't want to wake up
I'd rather rot in my bed
Just to not be called "Special Ed"
Just to not feel pain
Again
So I don't get hurt again
So I don't get shamed again
So I don't get drained again
So I don't have to be anymore insecure
So I can feel secure
While rotting away in my bed
While the depressive thoughts evacuate my head
Oct 24, 2024
Oct 24, 2024 at 12:29 PM UTC
Everything rots, doesn’t it?
Watch with me, dear reader
This petal falls from the rose
Your body starts to decompose
Another petal falls
Maggots burrow into your brain
A Panther tears open your chest
All of your organs are devoured hastily
Not to be put to waste
A third petal is blown by the wind
Your skin starts to peel
revealing marvelously white bone
a small sprout grows up through
the ribs and shows itself to the sun
The fifth and sixth petals fall together
The rain brings forth a flood
washing away the dirt and leaves
only your skeleton left behind
A curious dog takes your femur as
the seventh petal falls
You are rudely moved from
the forest floor to a dark room
They give you a name
The eighth petal falls
They put you in a box
The sun no longer shines on the sprout
and it too wilts
cries of people
surround you as you are then
dropped into your grave
The rose decomposes,
just like you.
The box doesn't last long
And your bones finally
are given a rest
As they crumble into dust
Dear reader, you see,
Everyone rots.
Sep 26, 2024
Sep 26, 2024 at 11:49 AM UTC
The Raven flies,
But just to die,
For the children that it bears,
Bit of the hand that fed them
In a land bereft claimed fair.
A world where god bids all to live
When they say “If we dare”.
A place where all that was is not,
Yet The Raven does not care.
The Raven, dead,
Its children fed,
Its life, long forgotten.
Covered in red,
They laid their heads,
Leftovers, ever rotten.
With its soul fled,
The life it lead,
Its memory now shotten,
The land it left ignored its death,
And upon it grew soft cotton.
Sep 27, 2024
Sep 27, 2024 at 9:34 AM UTC
days crawl by
and humidity stills the air.
the black flies are late this season,
though around here, most things are.
below the gnat line, girls like me
seldom get to die easily,
perfumed powders
masking the scent of illness,
flushed cheeks and damp foreheads donned
as our feeble bodies recline on fainting couches
to delicately languish away. we know that
there’s a certain beauty to decomposition,
to fungus gnats invading potted soil,
to fruit flies nesting in sink drains. we know that
rotting is a clock that never stops,
tallying each unflinching, humid second while the
days crawl by.
Jun 22, 2023
Jun 22, 2023 at 8:04 PM UTC
Kahoy na inaanay
Barko na butas
Lumulubog ng marahan
Kinakain ng dagat
Sugat na nagnanaknak
Balat na inaagnas
Nauubos na dugo
Sinisipsip ng linta
Prutas na nabubulok
Nabubulok ang lamang loob
Malansang amoy na umaalingasaw
Uod na lumalamon sa laman
Tahimik na pumapatay
Ngumunguya ng palihim
Sinisira ang malusog na anyo
Ang anyo ng huwad na katotohanan
Nakasusuklam, nakasusuya
Nakasusuka, mapait na lasa sa labi
Ngunit walang luhang itatangis
Hindi maghihinagpis
Hahayaang mabulok
Hahayaang mamatay
Aug 6, 2022
Aug 6, 2022 at 3:26 AM UTC
Dirt
You've turned into dirt.
Twisted away in fragile positions,
You've turned into dirt.
How does it feel to be this vulnerable?
To be plucked from your home, and bought with dirt to be sold off to the husband who forgot his wife's birthday?
To be called 'beautiful', only to be left rotting away?
To sit beside a bed of 'beautiful' red roses, who think they'll be safe forever. To know they'll turn into you, you who has moulded into dirt.
These eyes fall on you now,
they feel guilt,
they feel remorse,
(they feel happy?)
they feel like a murderer.
They run to drench you with water.
The poor white tulips,
and the poor pink roses
will you be fixed from this phase of dirt?
May 5, 2021
May 5, 2021 at 4:05 AM UTC
politics,,,,, start out
something alive,,,,, **** processe
sell the rotting flesh
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 6:35 PM UTC
Rotting flesh
Something isn't right
Troubling smell
Aching heart
Darkness closing in
Silence echoing loudly
Shadows claw their way through your heart
You're breathing stops
It's inching closer every second
The emptiness
Oct 21, 2020
Oct 21, 2020 at 8:12 PM UTC
the walls
rotting
halls
empty
I am stuck
in the place
I can relate to the most
Sep 14, 2020
Sep 14, 2020 at 9:26 AM UTC
She stood at the edge of a deep rock
leashed to the side of the sea
with foam biting at her feet
and waves barking at her.
She breathes a salt stenched air
and watches its jaws open
only to see a sailor
rotting between its teeth.
She swallows air whole,
call it courage or stupidity
but she takes a step towards it.
Now the hound named
"Sea"
became full
once more.
Sep 10, 2020
Sep 10, 2020 at 7:47 PM UTC
Rotting means having your brain
collapse in on itself in a grey gooey heap.
It means your eyes
falling apart and your tongue swelling up
and bursting
under the weight of a thousand maggots.
It's cutting your stomach into ribbons
and letting it shrivel into nothing.
It's letting your bones wither and crack
and your hair fall out
and it means curling up into a
dry
dusty
gooey
broken
slimy
oozing
ball.
I think I'm rotting.
Please help me.
Please help me,
I'm rotting.
Sep 7, 2020
Sep 7, 2020 at 5:06 PM UTC
Disgusting
Unpleasant
Rotting
Selfish
Materialistic
Disrespectful
Weak
Desperate
Rude
Arrogant
Controlling
Racist
Deceitful
Verminous
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 9:42 PM UTC