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 Jan 2018 The Black Beast
mythie
Scream.
I.
Scream.

My throat hurts.
But the scream was soft.
My pillow holds all my screams.
So they can never escape.

I feel better.

Cry.
I.
Cry.

My eyes burn.
But my eyes won't water anymore.
My pillow holds all my tears.
So they can never escape.

I feel better.

I go to punch my pillow.
I need to vent.
Let it out.
Out.

Bleed.
I.
Bleed.

My knuckles are bruised.
The kid in front of me is crying.
Where is my pillow?
Where am I?

I feel awful.

Scream.
I.
Scream.

But this time.
Everyone can hear.
My pained cries echo the streets.
I can't hold it in anymore.

Blood trickles down my throat.
My eyes are red and puffy.
My knuckles are ****** from punching the pavement.
I can't stop.

I keep crying.
I keep screaming.
I keep punching.
I keep doing it.

Breathe.
I.
Breathe.

I can finally breathe.
After all this time.
I finally realised.
My pillow was suffocating me.
 Jan 2018 The Black Beast
touka
cold,

I will my eyes to focus
reprimand my dark surroundings
and the many failing lights that sit
just a few yards away
blurry, blue dots
that jut out from the soil
of my neighbors yard
some decoration, I suppose

wet,

I hear the past, present and future collide with a crash
with a few strong voices
who bargain for nothing more than an insight
into each others inevitability

cold,

light flickers back on behind me
and I could kiss it hello
potent and poignant,
I'm so glad you are breathing
maybe that's a little forward, but it's more than power
I still struggle to focus my sight
maybe my ears, however
quiet still could not fall if it had untied shoes

wet, and so cold it's become dull

the ground is malleable, mud and muck sloshing around my pathway
my feet toss the puddles of winter water up and around my ankles
it soaks into my socks
sends a chill that stalks the length of my spine

wet and cold

I meander through the murk, biding it away
I jump onto the sleek black surface, staving off the frigid pains
and lay my head down to hide from sight

my vision is full of black holes

it's lovely, the rain
but not when its best accompaniment is the long silhouette of the house you'd escaped
who would I tell
a few foggy figures latch onto my regard

cells collapse in on their own

my face grows warm and I feel my features contort
a sad scowl appropriate for the situation at hand
tears roar past the dam I'd crafted
but it was dark, no one would see
I was hiding under nightfall
which might sound cool if I didn't mean I was laying on top of an old car crying at 5 in the morning

reborn starving and unconsoled

I still hear a few voices, then a few footsteps that quicken
a pace, a parse, a prying for more
and then a collective quiet
I stiffen, stifle my woes

the bite and the cry as it corrodes the hull

numb creeps in around my skin
especially my feet, the extent of the cold finally settling in
but I wasn't ready

the bigger the bang, the brighter the star

I have a conversation with myself in my head
and not to come off loony
but there are a few things that shouldn't have been said by either parties involved
if you catch my drift

theory tugs at the strings in my heart

a soft gust of January wind strokes the bare skin of my legs
I wonder
I wonder if I could stop if I were to start
and so I wonder and wonder
but it seems the answer isn't quite so mysterious

paradigms practice their weight in the void

I bet an imaginary amount of some imaginary currency
to myself, of course
that if I wasn't able to before, I definitely won't be able to sleep now

the dance of matter and its taunting toy

I hear my name called, footsteps shuffling, offering their warn
a somewhat concerned voice from beyond the beyond
the front door, I mean
out of sight, I freeze, my mouth stuffed full of cotton
half hoping they'll forget I exist for a few
so I can try to compose myself

with the space around it as it threatens tall

however well I could compose myself at this point, anyway
I know I'll be found
I don't want to speak, I'm not sure if I could
when these things happened, my mouth tended to malfunction as much as my spine
so I'd bite my tongue and stand shrinking
my muscles curling into a shaken stir

saturn sleeps, its uninhabitable crawl

a warm blanket, I don't remember the color
I'm brought inside and laid down
and I avoid the hot remnants of some loud, leering summer
the air is thick with it

its air stings my skin, and I hear a song
  ‍    ‍
so this is the weirdest, longest and most intimate poem I've ever done. It also kind of deviates from my usual style
(the italics are a bit glitched out BC of hellopoetry so sorry for that)
 Jan 2018 The Black Beast
Soulace
e                       I don't quite know what's worse.                     p

             Being 100%, completely broken
                      i
                                        ­                                               c
Or being 99% completed, and never seeming to find the last...


                                         e
See the sister
In the great aunt
I last saw
A decade ago

The sister is dead
Her voice here speaks
Back in the state
Where it was born

My mother cares after
Speaks so kindly
To the grandmother
Figure here for a day

Lost in family
Remembering
Then drive on
Into the present
The future ticking
No time for delay

No longer children
No longer a daughter
No longer sisters
Only our own.
Made after a roadtrip to see extended family I’d not seen in some time. My grandmother has been dead for a long time, but her sister is alive with a huge family back near their common birthplace. It was a disorienting but wonderful day.
 Dec 2017 The Black Beast
Annete
Each night before bedtime,
Just like the artist on his poorest, in the dark
I am creating Characters
To get away and travel
Without leaving bed.
It’s my endowment
And my curse
As I go miles far
But always end up next to you
I am an artist
 Dec 2017 The Black Beast
anya
ease
 Dec 2017 The Black Beast
anya
my anxiety is killing me
how many nights i've gone through without sleep
i cannot comprehend the feeling inside
the stairs i take are too steep
my legs are weary, they won't climb up
my anxiousness drowns me in darkness, yet i'm in drought
hearts racing, thoughts running, eyes searching for something grounding
every little mistake i make makes me so jumpy
only the pills she gave me can calm it
although i chug them down my throat
my own mind says those **** won't help me that it won't cure me
and now here i am, sitting mindless and thoughtless and with nothing to hold onto
a note of surrender towards my own demons.
Sinking through the bathroom floor
Lying in my own thoughts
Maybe they're tears
I don't know the difference anymore
Covered in disgust for myself
Or maybe it's *****
The worlds out of focus
Or maybe the rooms shaking
Never mind, that's just me
Falling through the floor
Being caught over and over in a web of regret
Am I the spider or its pray?
Blood, and ***** pouring down the drain
Silence fills the bathtub
It's raining,
never mind, that's the shower
The waters salty
Never mind, it's red
All this time,
Waiting to feel anything besides my thoughts

Why does it hurt so bad?
How can feeling nothing hurt so bad?
Through your poems I finally found you,
prints of soul in your tracks led me to you ,
your raw heart stripped mine open and bare,
exposing these emotions that I now have to share,
my demise began when I introduced her to you,
erasing my destiny that was written for you,
I wander in misery,settle in denial ,live in daze,
striving to unravel the clue to this maze.
How do I recite metaphors in verses of a poet?
How do I sing rhythm in the lyrics of a singer?
How do I draw color in the brushes of a painter?
How do I guide him in this different channel?
How do I tell my best friend that for him  I've fallen.
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