#sullen
Stir and Mix
Stir and Mix,
Keep your head down
Cuz’ hell you’re helping them drown.
Shake and Pour
Shake and Pour
Not your fault if they fall
Just wipe the counter s’more
Wipe and Scrub
Wipe and Scrub
It’s no wonder you feel undeserving
Of their love
Turn and Lock
Turn and Lock
“Congrats Kid, you’re off the clock”
Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 12:43 PM UTC
split it anyway -
countenance of grief leaves back
a scar, forever.
Dec 24, 2024
Dec 24, 2024 at 12:34 PM UTC
I reside in shallow desires,
That have burned to ashes,
A mere swine swindler and a mime,
Are my traits to define,
Exhibiting aimlessness,
I watch the stars align,
And for God to show me a sign,
Like a River sullen in misery,
Knowing it will have to fit In a pond,
I besiege my reach,
And so I preach,
My heart to not have it's way,
Now as a pond,
I reside without a say.
Oct 11, 2024
Oct 11, 2024 at 4:16 PM UTC
eyes dull
heads low
dead silence echoes
cold, still
mellow
so it goes
crestfallen
black and blue
things you never knew
hold still
shallow
so it goes
Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 2:39 AM UTC
nor a fox not wise
with claws and pipes
a forests breath
with death ripe
just a day in paradise,
that's all i pray.
no fool for a price
nor a herd for a prize
malfunctioning slight
chocked with parasites
just a day in paradise,
if it wasn't for today.
spoiled thoughts
and foiled spite
caught then boxed
with no air to bite
lost and left,
kept for the nights
in transparent red
herein painted quiet
just a day in paradise,
for the one who pays.
in a stranger's head
with debt of dice
where heaven lays
and the dead shall rise
seven solemn days
that'll never come twice
mourning for prey
by a mornings pride
just a day in paradise,
for a day in paradise
if it wasn't for today.
kissed by the fire
shut with wire
no word nor desire
and made in ice
broken prism's charm
in arms of a lover
born away and in white
doused in hope
and not a dime to pay
no dream nor life
just a day in paradise,
and it'll never go away.
where beauty slays
and inferno hides
dante's meal
and a mountains might
where a valley bleeds
from a pelters diet
melting the stones
and people alike
just a day in paradise,
that's all there's to say.
whence scars bleed
opened far wide
and the hour sleeps
in fear and fright
where words fail
to tell and describe
rotten and stale
fighting the lights
just a day in paradise,
for the one who stayed.
nor a fox not wise
with claws and pipes
a forest's breath
with death ripe
just a day in paradise,
and that's all i pray.
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 4:39 PM UTC
Ivory skin
True goth within
Don't hold your grin boy
It will get stuck in the wind
Suicidal love letters
To explain my final sin
Boy says your life is nothing
And loners should play their violin
As I looked down from the bridge sullenly
I realized losers never win
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 7:35 AM UTC
There goes the rain,
Her gentle lover,
The only one,
Who's ever touched her,
From head to toe,
And deep inside,
In shapeless arms,
She comes alive.
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 11:13 AM UTC
I don't really know what exactly is hurting me. There are few people and few things that have gone bad, but I can't pick a person and say that I blame you. I have tried to ask myself, but all I get is that I am sad, for some reason. I get irritated by small things. I don't enjoy the things I used to enjoy earlier. I don't smile the way I used to smile. I feel that something is missing. Some part of me is lost somewhere. Some feelings of mine are lying bruised within my soul. I feel a darkness lurking inside me, but I sparkle in bouts of desperate attempts at happiness. It's almost as if I am screaming for help, without making any noise.
And then sometimes, I blame myself for being so emotional about the things other people just don't even care about. I hate myself for having a heart that is too pure in this soulless world. I have done so much for others. So when I find myself standing alone, fighting my own ugly battle, I do feel betrayed by all those people. I feel used. I feel like **** And then I just want to say goodbye to all those people. You know, never talk to them, delete their numbers, or block them. I get almost ready to do it, but then I stop. I don't know why I stop. Maybe, I still want to give them a chance. Or maybe, I just want to see how much more they can hurt me.
I deserve better. I deserved more love, care, affection, and loyalty. And that's why it hurts when people just change. They still smile. They are still happy and proud. No trace of shame on their double fake face. They are still beaming as some sort of proud "pure soul", ah! the irony of black souled vultures. And to be honest, I just want to end this all. I want to trace all my pain and punch it dead with some reality-check and self-love. I mean, who wants to stay sad for people who don't even care? So, maybe soon, they won't be able to find me. Soon, the doors of my world will be shut on them, forever. Soon, they won't even exist in my universe. And, I mean all of them. You know, I don't need anyone. I am just so tired of this ******** and drama. Just, go away. I want to live, happy and alone. I am done with people.
:)
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 4:26 AM UTC
What of the young Donna
Reclining with book in hand
A sigh circling her lips
A glaze greeting her gaze
Her thoughts bored of days
Endless days
Depthless days
Where every voice and all actions
Are slowly stewed
In rich stock of routine
And people arrive, bowls in hand
Forming long, bending lines
Like the Depressions of old
Where defeat, distrust, damage
Linger and lay
Within the sleepless eyes of many
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 6:06 PM UTC
On a day such as this,
I return from my tiring work.
On a day such as this,
I return to this dull world.
I hear it once more--
The droning, and the grayness it explores.
I feel it coming--
The humming, and the slight drumming...
The thinning beats are composed of children's pitter-patter,
And sullen ***** dish clatter.
The tuneless melody speaks of pointless meanings,
And empty greetings.
I hear it once more--
The droning, and the grayness it explores.
I feel it coming--
The humming, and the slight drumming...
I hear it one more time--
Or so I think,
For the part of me that understands
Has already died.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 12:18 AM UTC
I thought everything would change
without any good input one day
I thought human responsibility
was ascending and making money
to support the tower steel and stone
to leave forgotten lives below
wishing and wanting that
same thing
Where the pyramid remains
built tip to base
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 9:27 PM UTC
A bag of melancholy emotions collect
within empty features, secluded & vacant.
No tears ever weaken this collection
of barren reflections.
Only whispers escape, soundless gestures.
It collects from distressed abrasions,
to smear upon its outer visage.
Always motionless it wonders the
surroundings to celebrate the humour
of its desolate existence.
A child wonders closely, asking if
this creation of lost collections is in
need of chloroform smiles.
it looks and hands a rose,
its leafs embers of its mourning.
Smiling, this miniature silhouette,
slashes out at the one who parented it.
Cleaving what was smiles,
now carved features smear a face of
sullen smiles, as like the petals falling lifeless.
Tears flow like rivers, the contortion of
happiness fades when the last petal erodes
a motion under hidden gestures facilitate
this happiness to see such butchery of innocence.
But it is short lived like always, paper frowns collect.
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
Whether it’s 5 p.m or 5 a.m, I laugh as loud as I want.
Laughter is a stream of gold cascading through the air.
It is the end all, the ultimate painkiller.
The path to redemption.
Laughter.
Well, it is 5 a.m, but I’m not laughing.
I’ve been reading stories
Of sadness and sordidity,
romance and restlessness,
love and loneliness–all for hours on end.
So much for lightheartedness, there’s none of that here.
I’ve been reading amateur-made stories
That still tug at the deepest recesses of my depression.
One in particular inspired me to write a certain story of my own.
It was sad, it was juvenile,
It was beautiful, it was nostalgic.
The prose in that story should only ever be thought of
In the most proper manner:
shrouded in a hazy mist of wistfulness and bittersweet longing.
Different hues of glowing colors,
Images of fog.
For so long I thought I was through with this part of my life.
The part where I felt so lonely that I could drop dead of touch deprivation.
But it has returned.
Nothing will do to stop this acquired disease.
Mine is a loneliness, such as a thirst
That cannot be quenched with mere drops of water.
It becomes a way of life.
O’ joy, where do you reside?
Oh, forget it. You’re lost on me.
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 11:15 PM UTC
The departure, sullen and sweet.
Parting ways thoughtfully, only to obsess.
I've got errands, I've got my things.
Recalling your pupils I suppose...
Maybe it wasn't just dim light.
But I will not know for a very long time.
The twilight absorbs me, ******* me into the dusky void.
I return to my path and begin to walk.
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 10:56 PM UTC
In bed
On the couch across the room
Futon
Folded over me
Folding my dreams
Into napkins,
shaped and dyed
Outside
4 AM bathing in rain
Inside
You sleep easily
You dream sweetly
Into madness,
I stay awake
Through night,
Petrified
Misunderstood
the saccharine
Too passionate
Far too naive
Misunderstood
the promises
Blood for caffeine
Dreamless
(Sweet dreams)
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
The breath of change collects on all,
once plumes of growth wither beneath
the slicing silence of onyx nights.
Collecting grains of light from the day..
A flurry of hues depart there podium,
like a crescent of static moments descend
down to there inevitable serenity..
When breath collects they are fleeting momentarily.
Exhalation collects on the shivers of bare branches.
Unclothed of there foliage, they are but shadows
of life's abundance. Now they stand sullen waiting
patiently for the winds of change to once again blow.
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 4:32 PM UTC
Tell me once. Tell me again, I wasn't listening.
Move your mouth. Speak again,
I wasn't watching or listening.
Typically when tongues lash, mine is still.
Typically on a night out, it's better to stare.
Whispered our shouted,
who cares? Who cares?
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 9:46 PM UTC
Time is a whisper
That echoes across the void
Sullen as we are
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 4:53 PM UTC
An unfenced field
of memories awoken ,
frozen pastel flowers
color fast ,
though fading
on borrowed time
A one-way footpath
disappears unencumbered
between the snowdrifts
leading across
the winter stilled
iced up creek bed ,
coursing a path
of least resistance
destiny unknown
Changing tawny petals
scatter like potpourri ,
fallen collateral
in the aftermath
a beautiful dream's
passing light
Pressed and dried
memories buried
under dog-eared
tear-stained pages
black topiaries
that grow in the dark
Redemption unbid
and unwelcome,
earthen mineral rights
surrendered unspent ,
Natural order
decomposing
reclamation ,
chilled to the marrow
A scorned lover’s
bated breathe
bared ink unspoken,
Unbidden laments
eerily betokened
in an unseen
netherworld ,
undeniable , yet
bashfully remarkable
I see the frosty
fogged breath
that repents
in choral dialect ,
speaking in known
tongue , with
the absolvable voice
of a bitter cold wind
wind is the wind .... December 20. 2016
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
My hand didn't want to awaken those abjections
but the ink wondered aimlessly on the paper.
Sullen episodes were like a cloud on the page.
Mists of what was like heavy dew on my
mind, thoughts drooped uncontrollably.
Then they conceded under strain descending.
Ink was abstract as I never understood why
I felt this incosectant need to cry every thought
on paper. My reflection is not what I feel inside.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 9:17 AM UTC
As the sullen figure of a woman sets alone in her room
You can feel in the atmosphere all the gloom
As memories rap on the doors in her mind
They well remain there for all time
For her they will never depart
For even if time erases them from the mind,they are written with scars in her heart
She sits there shoulders hunched over
A river of tears sliding down her checks, no longer able to hold her composure
She had slipped into her room, her sanctuary
The burden of being the strong one, for the moment she could no longer carry
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 7:02 PM UTC
Morose skies dripped with agony
As dawn beckoned closer.
I peered through the rim of the earth
And found utter nothingness.
Not a sound peeped, not a soul weeped
As I fell into the oblivion
Of the earths shallow shores.
Eyes cannot see what this world truly holds
Discomforted hearts longing
And weary eyes falling,
I cannot see through the surface
As my skin is crawling.
Skies shatter and life is amidst,
Entities full of bitterness.
My heart mourns for the emptiness,
But I cannot see the color of the earth.
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC