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May 9, 2012, 7:01:02 PM by ~OmegaWolfOfWinter
Journals / Personal




The rivers of winter ice had melted with spring sunshine's awakening and the noises of the forest announced the awakening of the fauna. a young fox stretched her long legs and fluffed up her tail as she yawned awake. this winter had been a lonely one for her, as she did not have a mate. throughout the winter she had felt the tingling feelings of her ****** urges creep between her legs and she moaned slightly as she felt them creeping there again.  she stepped slowly out of her den and took a cool breath of the spring air, bringing her the scents of the amorous flowers and the frolicking prey. she watched two birds in courting flight above har and she sighed at her loneliness. the fox hung her head low and walked softly forward. at some point she closed her eyes and yet kept walking, a few tears of longing falling from her eyes. the tingling urges grew stronger and she fought to keep them at bay. she kept walking a bit, aimlessly, though. she cried out as she stumbled over a heavy rock.
She tumbled into the nearby brook and felt a sharp stone cut her right hind leg. she clambered on to the bank, shivering and soaking wet with the chilled water. she attempted to stand and felt a fiery sting to her leg. she looked and saw a shallow **** marring her orange fur. "ow... ow..." she whimpered as she walked on. as the sun peaked over her, she felt her stomach's pleading for sustenance and she groaned. she could faintly smell a rabbit nearby and crouched low, going over how to stalk her prey. she sniffed for it and it seemed to be close, on the other side of a group of trees. she flanked around as best she could and spotted the furball. she licked her lips hungrily and pounced. the rabbit was dead in an instant as she tore its throat out. she chomped at it once and then felt a feeling of dread. she gulped once and heard a wolf growl nearby. i'm wounded... i can't avoid it now.
.
she thought. she heard the wolf running toward her and was bowled over by it. when she stopped
Rolling she was on her back. looking up at the wolf, a young grey, white chested wolf, at the beginning of his manhood. he snarled at his prey as she whimpered beneath him. then to her surprise, he sniffed at her and tilted his head, the tenseness of the hunt gone from his yellow eyes. the wolf took a step back and looked her up and down, stopping as he saw something. he spoke softly, almost caringly, "you are female... and in heat... i apologize for interrupting your meal."
the fox looked at him curiously, "You...?"
he glanced at her and finished her thought. "...do not harm females. it is a code of honor i choose to live by."
she sniffed at him, "you have no mate, no lover."
his breath caught. "nor do you, young fox, lest he'd be satiating your body's desires, and his as well."
she felt the tingling between her legs again and attempted to say something, but was stopped. the wolf said, "nor do i wish to take advantage of females either."
The fox replied suggestively, "you spared my life, surely theres some way i could repay you, handsome wolf."
the wolf looked at her, eyes dilated and his breathing rough. he shook his head, "no.. i couldnt. its not my place."
she could feel the urges burning inside her, she wanted to release them, she wanted this wolf to release her. "chivalrous, i see. then, dear wolf, alleviate my longing, my pain, and i shall alleviate your own."
the wolf took a step closer, his own longing feeding his fire. "beautiful fox... your offer intigues me... you- you are wounded..." she looked and saw her leg still bleeding. "let me aide you, dear fox." he took a few steps and lay beside her, licking her wound. with each lick, the pain receded and was replaced by a wave of pleasant ache. the bleeding stopped and he stopped licking, for the moment. he sniffed her, his cold nose brushing the swollen flesh, and as it quivered between her legs, he knew she was ready for him. "my den is close by, young fox."
She nuzzled against his chest and felt his heart pounding. she took his paw and pressed it against her own chest, letting him feel her heart. "you know we cant wait that long, here.. in this group of trees." she gestured to the spot a few feet away. the wolf quickly walked into the tangle of trees, followed by the fox. the wolf had hardly stepped inside the treeline before the fox began nudging at the furry bulge between his legs. "you're not quite ready yet, dear wolf." the wolf whimpered a few times as she licked at it, taking his smooth member in her mouth and enticing it with her tongue. once it was throbbing in its full glory, she licked one last time and said, "now you're ready." and raised herself in preparation for him. he got into position on top of her and with one paw she guided him inside her. she gasped as he stretched her a little. she glanced over her shoulder and
realized that he wasnt that much bigger than her. he looked nervous and she realized something,
This is his first time... mine too... lets make this memorable.. she experimented with different positions, and after finding her favorite, set about making this wolf howl.
the wolf ****** slowly at first, drawing out the ecstasy. only when she began to whimper amorously did he begin to ****** harder, faster. she joined him, as he pulled back, she leaned forward, leaving only his tip inside her. when he ******, she leaned back on him with a wet squish. the wolf's tongue lolled and his eyes were glazed over in sweet agony. he howled softly at first, and as the ****** came, he howled again, echoing with the fox's cries as the ecstasy reached its ****** and rocked their bodies. the wolf staggered slightly at the passionate waves of ******. he pulled out his member and looked at his mate. "come with me to my den, so we can sleep, dear fox." the fox looked at him and nodded, grateful.
* * *
The fox and the wolf walked quietly to his den, set inside a secluded cluster of trees. the den itself was set in the ground, like a cavern, just large enough for the two of them to lie down comfortably. "its going to get cold tonight," said the wolf. "we should... share body heat." he had a faint twinkle in his eyes as he glanced nervously at her. when she tilted her head to him, the wolf looked down at his paws. the fox licked his muzzle and laid down next to him. the wolf's grey fur was thick, and she was  already beginning to feel warmer. she felt the wolf's heart beat a little faster, and he curled around her. his furry tail wrapped around the fox and she purred slightly as she nuzzled him and rested her head on his foreleg. for a moment they lay there, eyes closed, listening to the others' breathing, when he whispered to her, "i never did catch your name, young fox."
she grinned at him, "my name's Sasha, the only fox in this forest. and what be your name, dear wolf?"
The wolf opened one eye slightly to look at her, "my name is Ronan, i'm the last wolf of my pack."
she held him in her gaze a few beats and replied, "i haven't seen many wolves 'round these parts, where do you come from, Ronan?"
the grey sighed and said, "Farther north, over the mountains and into ice country. the food became scarce and the pack withered away, all but me. i treveled over the hills and mountains, through forests and grassland, and i kept going, finally stopping here. what of you? you said yourself you were the only fox in this forest."
Sasha swished her tail back and forth for a moment before, "i was separated from my family during a blizzard. i- i couldn't see anything, and i couldn't hear anything over the wind. i wandered aimlessly in the whiteout, tripping and stumbling until i bumped into something big. then again, i was just a kit and everything was big to me, but i looked up and saw a pair of eyes looking at me. i was so scared the snow beneath me turned yellow.
The monster bent over and picked me up by the scruff of my neck and carried me for a long time. i was so exhausted i fell asleep in its grip. when i woke up i was in a chilly den. i looked and realized that the monster had been a snow-white she-wolf. she sat at the enterance to the den and kept looking outside, waiting for something. when the snowstorm cleared out, she turned to me and said, 'little fox. have you a family?' i shook my head as i realized they were gone. from then on, the wolf raised me and taught me how to survive. then one day a few years ago... she was gone..."
Ronan was watching the fox as she told the story. "i'm sorry."
"don't be, ronan. ever since she left ive been alone. no fox to breed me, no one for a lover. until you came along..."
ronan licked her muzzle, "no need for loneliness now." sasha smiled and was soon asleep, warmed by her lover.
*
The sun rose and shone brightly into the entrance of the den the next morning, waking sasha from her slumber. she yawned and felt around for the grey. she felt nothing. she stood up and looked around the empty den. did he... leave me? a single tear fell when she imagined the possibility. "no.... please no..." she whimpered. her breath caught as she heard something rustling the grass outside the den. sasha shrank back and hid behind her tail, peeking over it slightly. she could hear her heartbeat in her ears and feel it rising in her throat as the rustling got closer and closer. she squeaked, "who... who's there?"
she flinched as a dark mass blocked the sunlight, its shadow stretching across the wall. the mass stepped slowly forward and sasha shut her eyes tight, fearing what might come next. "sasha?" it was ronan. "what's the matter?"
she gasped at him before rushing forward and burying her muzzle in his chest fur. "i thought you'd left me..."
with a paw, ronan stroked the fur on her back. "i'm a wolf, ***. loyalty and chivalry are the only things i know." she buried herself deeper in his fur and scolded herself for not realizing that. "i caught breakfast, i figured you'd be hungry after i interrupted your meal yesterday." she looked behind him and saw a small pile of ****** rabbits. sasha licked her lips hungrily. "its all yours, dear fox." she looked gratefully at Ronan before pouncing on the pile of carcasses, tearing into one and bloodying her maw. ronan watched her with pleasant  affection. the den was filled with the sounds of flesh being rendered from bone and the snapping of Sasha's teeth. she feasted upon the **** until she could eat no more, her belly now filled. two rabbits still lay uneaten, and ronan devoured them slowly, savoring the ****** meat as it slipped down his gullet. sasha lay nuzzled up against him while he ate, toying at his tail and
otherwise teasing at him. he gave her a look of amusement and somehow got into a game of tag with her.
He chased her around the den and she dodged his paw as he reached for her. when he did finally touch her, sasha dove between his legs and poked his furry belly. leaving him with a dumbfounded expression on his face. he then chased sasha outside and they continued their game within the cluster of trees around them. sasha laughed, a liquid smooth, crystal clear laugh. ronan watched her jump around him, the sun's rays catching her fine orange fur in such a way that it seemed almost like fire. he watched her a moment and loosed a soft howl. she's so beautiful... he thought.
* *
claire Mar 2012
Hanging from a Star
The girl sat on her star. The dark towering flowers around her, cast shadows over her blank face. She walked around the side of her star to the grass so she could watch the fiery sun and look down at the fluffy billowing clouds in earth’s atmosphere. Lying, hating thoughts floated up from the beautiful blue and green planet below. The girl had been watching earth since it was first created. Cain’s first thoughts of ****** were heard by the girl. She watched the black plague wash through the world, killing millions. The hell of the holocaust burned through her mind like fire across her own skin. Sometimes she swore she could almost smell the melting flesh and boiling blood from the sick world below.
The girl nestled down in the warm grass and focused her guarded mind in preparation to listening in on the earth, like she did every other day. “Her nose is so ugly.” “Why didn’t I do more today?” “I miss her.” “I need to put at least ten percent in savings if I’m ever going to retire.” “I hope no one else notices this huge zit protruding from my face.” “Why didn’t I just kiss him?” “The sun is burning my eyes.” She made her way through selfish minds of the shallow population and then moved for relief, to the newborn children. Images of parents, lights, and bright colors flashed before her eyes. Each new child’s face seemed to be surrounded in a beautiful clear light. The girl wished the children had never been brought to that terrible planet.
One child in particular tugged on the girls thoughts, making the girl want to focus entirely on her. The light around the child was brilliant. The baby’s ocean eyes were open and focused on the one beautiful flower in the room. The details of the daisy were perfect in the child’s mind. The baby fell deeply in love with the white petals that curled softly around the bright yellow center. The girl’s mind was entranced by the lovely child. The girl named the perfect child Claire and sent heavenly visions to entertain the child’s thoughts as the hospital buzzed around her.
As Claire grew, the girl watched her red curls flourish and darken with each day. Her blue eyes bloomed as she turned into a happy toddler and her pale skin stayed radiant and cloudless. Claire’s mommy was a large, reserved woman, but loved her little girl with all her heart. Her mommy sang her to sleep each night and gave her everything she could afford to. But the floor of the trailer where they lived was layered in mud, cat feces, and tobacco. Her father’s face and clothes were covered in stains and the beard that he never remembered to shave had remnants of chewing tobacco that he hadn’t spit far enough. Every night, his drunk, angry voice roared throughout the house, cursing at whatever he could get into his hands first. Each time this happened, the ******* the star poured daisies into Claire’s mind as Claire buried her china face into a soiled pillow.
After a sublime day of school filled with telling time and and reading silly stories, Claire  skipped back to her hostel under the warm autumn sun. She opened her front door to find her mommy in a pool of ***** and blood. Claire screamed in horror and fled back down the steps to the closest residence, trying to see through her own flooded eyes as she tripped along the avenue. Claire’s father never even went to the hospital to inquire about his wife. The hospital gave up calling him, and she was buried in an unplanned graveyard, under the cheapest tombstone.
Claire became the subject of her father’s wrath. Several times a month he would take Claire to bed with him and **** her. She cried silently as he seized her tiny body, leaving large dark bruises where he should have left kindness. The ******* the star filled Claire with exquisite thoughts as he blemished her, but a child may not always be calmed in a situation of pure agony. Tears streamed from the star, watering the daisies next to the trashed trailer.
The ******* the star watched as Claire grew and learned. Finally, Claire vacated the ***** trailer park, on her way to a brighter future. Then Claire met Him. His thoughts were black. Though his eyes scoured Claire’s body, his smile seemed sincere. The ******* the star tried to keep Claire away from him, but Claire was in love with his kindness and moved in with him. The bruises seemed to appear again on a larger scale all down her arms and across her stomach. This man’s hands were harsher than her father’s, but his constant words of kindness drew Claire in, melting her heart into his ice cold soul. Claire dedicated herself to the man, and just as she did, his temper turned fierce and there was fire in his hands.  Other girls seemed to appear in their small apartment dressed in scant ****** and smirks.
One night his fingers skimmed like sand paper up her frail arms and the smell of alcohol breathed down on her face. His fiery hands hit her over and over, slamming her into walls, bloodying her hands and knees, and knocking her out cold. He left her there, sprawled out on the floor, bleeding freely from several gashes. The ******* the star could not reach Claire. Her mind was gone. She thought Claire was dead, so in the path of the drunken abuser, the ******* the star put a murdering thought into a killer’s mind. The abuser was shot in an alley where no one would find him. Angry wailing poured down onto the streets.
Claire woke up and posed in the apartment for weeks. The ******* the star perceived in dismay, that Claire’s light was out. Claire drank whatever alcohol was left there and sliced her arms from wrist to shoulder. The apartment turned grimy along with her blood and oil matted hair. Some of her wounds became infected and her face was no longer a china doll, but a red splotchy entanglement, smeared with dirt and tears. For those weeks it rained steadily as the ******* the star wept. No pleasant thoughts were sent to any human’s mind, but the daisies grew tall and out of control.
Claire’s blackened spirit left the cool, ***** apartment one morning. Her tiny body abandoned in a corner, was huddled in the fetal position, covered in dust bunnies. The ******* the star made a noose from a black daisy, and for the first time, the sky rained blood on earth. Each morning thereafter, the ******* the star walked through her forest of black daisies, retied a noose , and hung herself from the bottom of her star, overwhelmed by the appalling nature of the world below, blocking earth out of her mind with her own pain and suffering.
Lexi Oct 2013
The jagged rocks flow through the air like daggers laced with the most toxic of poisons. Adverted eyes avoid the abyss of spewing lava for fear of being burned. Those in the path of destruction, they are the unluckiest of victims. Monosyllabic stones of hopelessness find their way to the scarred skin, bloodying the bloodied, breaking the broken. The volcanoes are worthy of repugnant titles, sharp like their tongues or decaying like their souls. The victims should run, should cry, should lash out against the lava, protect themselves. But everyone says that if you choose to live at the bottom of a volcanic body, you are already dead. The lava will only harden you, despite attempts to remain cool in your passivity. Lava burns, and no amount of composure or preparation can protect you from the overwhelming presence of hatred and intolerance; the hating fire fueled only by oxygen.
Written September 13, 2013
Kashif Riaz Apr 2017
Who's in senses
and who's not
Who's more egoist
and who's bigger insane
Both are hateable
but I can't say that
The home is toxic
but I have to breathe
Environment is killing
but I have to live
Live in silence
ready for more punches
No other way
just be patient
Can't take stand
against my own assets
Anna Sandberg Nov 2014
An evil queen ruled so unfair
Turning peasants away.
Orders smoothly “bow down to me”
She sneeringly would say.

I am her servant but a
Loving childhood friend.
Misguided by our parents
She followed their harsh trend.


A prince from another country
Caught the queens glowing gaze
But he turned his head away
for another girl of praise

I fell in love with a peasant
Skin as fair as pure snow
When my queen asked of her dispose
I could not tell her “no”.


Her people acted against her
Rule by forcing down her door
Unknowing of her strings of fate
Her servant gave a roar.

I offered to take her place as queen
Since we’re born as twins
before she could protest once word
I put on her royal pins.


The queen watched her brother, with shock,
Leave the safe castle gates
She put on a peasants old cloak
Worrying of both fates

I am now the evil queen and she
Is now the queens small maid
I stand up on this pedestal
Upon the peoples raid.


The maids gaze stopped on the queen
With tears in her green eyes
As the blade dropped down upon him
Bloodying the blue skies.
Somewhere way down a long line of cars and roads on the opposite end of broken down gas station near a bedside tavern.
You were lost near a bushel of birds.
That chirped when you walked by.

And there was a cloud directly above you,
white.
Puffy.
Lost in the blue blue sky.
Only it wasn't.
It was shading you from the sun.

And you walked under an oak tree with a knothole in it.
Whispered your dreams in to it's trunk and walked away.
An apple fell from an oak tree.

Somewhere along the way you stumbled over the curb and forgave it for bloodying your elbow. The sunlight kissed your skin and suddenly there was nothing.
Like superman,
the sun made you strong.

And the radiance of yourself by the river as the logs drifted on.
Moon sparkle and bathe.
There was purity.
There were answers.

So said the squirrels as they squeaked about you in the branches.
I had another cigarette and forgot all about it.
-P.S.
irinia Aug 2015
There is no greater joy, body of mine,
than going out in the city at night
watching the halo of the moon bitten by a cloud
and the traffic lights changing their colours,
the car cutting the air,
seeing the flower thief
bloodying his hands
with the explosion of a rose,
being the absentee of your loneliness
and going beyond the power of your eye,
watching a whisper
rising from the trees
and how, while you are departing, it calls your name,
you creature of the Earth, you call your own name,
losing yourself, oh, body of mine,
towards the outskirts of the city, where
the darkened meadow of the night is itself a mourning
of time, where desire
gives you the thrills of an eternity.

Gellu Dorian, from  *It Might Take Me Years
Fissured seams-- shutter widens and catches
Black foreground on sky
Whirlpool current
Order
Yawning underneath
Swallows
Handel-- Cargo taken whole
Into those eager stomachs
Once more-- for all time
Greedy serpents misspend hate
With whips
Bloodying their subjects’ once dry mouths
Who offer,
with that salty ocean
Apéritif-- to quell nothing
Their meal won't be had
MMXI

"... (We) have nothing to lose... (we) have a world to gain."
Marquis Hardy May 2014
Time sets, it moves and it sings. It cries in silence in hopes to be heard. Darkness settles around our dreams with nothing but good intention. It is only misunderstood as ominous because we can’t see through its shield. Blocking away the unnecessary the darkness fights to actually show us what is important as we lie awake in the depths of our dreams; shielding us from the distractions we all tend to give our focus.

I see you standing there in a doorway reaching out to anything you can get your grasp on, waving, flailing, trying your hardest to not fall in the abyss of the unknown and the too good to be true. I then see all things being projected toward you, hurrying and fleeing to your side to save you now. The darkness begins to envelop my surroundings as far as the eye can see, growing stronger more full of nothing and seeming more ominous. I fight to stead my focus only to you, enhancing my speed of the walk trying to still remain calm through my thundering heart. Everything was shooting toward you, but you wouldn't grab hold… You latched on to me with your eyes and looked as if you would never let go. Regrettably I stopped… Only for a moment, but I stopped. I felt it was a trap, why would you only be waiting for me despite all the wonderful things trying to get hold of you? The Darkness scared me, the darkness threatened me. Not you, your eyes never left me but I couldn't focus on you because of the uncertainty behind the intentions of the darkness.

Again I stopped, but this time I took a step back. The light between
you was getting narrower for the darkness was growing stronger. I could feel my breaths shorten as you continued to reach for me, praying not to fall further. I wanted to get to you, I just wasn't strong enough. It felt like the darkness was growing the closer I came to you. Rather than facing it and you at the end I began to retreat back to what I knew while trying my hardest to not focus on your eyes penetrating my mind, and your hand prying open my heart. I retreated watching the darkness subside, I retreated. I was okay, as I came out of distance of you; I told myself you were okay simply to destroy any chance of guilt. I was almost free until I heard a faint song of something familiar, something I once kept locked in my soul. I began inching toward it searching deliberately for what it could be. Louder it grew, louder and more clear, it began touching my heart, through spots of wet yellow paint, splintered wood, and broken glass I continued on, paying no attention to the darkness continuing to devour my instant surroundings. The sound, the familiar singing in my head seemed to be entreating me to come back. I began to run; I began to run toward it through the last bit of light fighting through the darkness until I felt like I was flying. It was you again… but this time you were trapped behind the things trying to help you.  I heard the faint memory once more, but this time it was coupled by the movement of your lips. Through the deepest reserves of my memory you had come back imploring me to make it to you through the nonsense. Fighting through the fear I came to you and without a hesitant thought or a wasted glance at the surrounding darkness I began bloodying myself pulling away the destruction that kept me from you; the pieces of once good things that kept you from me. Feeling nothing for myself but
solely for you I felt your still outstretched hand graze my fingertip and the blood left with your touch. Understanding that with you I was unstoppable I broke through sacrificing the last piece of me to be once again with you. You free, I fallen, you picked me up, piecing all of me back together. Penetrating my eyes you were the last thing I saw as the darkness encompassed us and immediately ceased to exist.

Loosening your clutch from my head to your heart did we then notice it was only you and I. With no sign of the destruction of the struggle from before, we were all that was left. It was just the two of us alone in a vast room filled with all of our dreams to last for an eternity and beyond.
Jonny Angel Mar 2014
I guess it was old fashioned
to walk along the shore
whispering
above the rising tides,
squeezing hands
& riding the waves
of endless passions.

I guess it was old fashioned
to hold your chin like that
& to kiss you so tenderly.

But it wasn't my fault
your knees grew weak
& you face planted in the surf,
bloodying your cute turned up nose.

I guess it was old fashioned
to offer you my clean shirt,
to blurt out I love you
after you had embarrassed
the hell out of yourself.

And I guess it was old fashioned
to apologize for my snickering
when I realized you might
have really gotten hurt.

But I guess I'm just old fashioned
to really care,
to really believe in love
& girls who have weak knees
& do face plants in the surf.
Mr E Sep 2012
Luminous rock to guide my will
Bloodying the hands of those that want
So greedily does power seep
In to the hands of men
Stone of power and righteous thought
To heal the wounds that mark my taut
Fragile body and weary mind
Are you worthy to be so sought?
Power of kings
And Power of Gods
When men fight men with battles fought
Doth happiness lie in unfathomed might?
I

Truly

Think

Not.
Delaney Jun 2015
Was I too complex for you?
Tell me, what is it that I did wrong?
I know it must of been a lot,
For you to throw me away to rot.
You scream words of hatred,
while I cry tears of grief.
Grievence for the love
that we once shared.
It was a passionate,
beautiful love.
A love that along the way
became one sided.
I will always love you, my dear.
You could stab me
and I'd apologize
for bloodying up your knife.
I apologize everyday.
I wasn't enough.
I wish I had been.
  

     (d.d.b)
Sometimes I still think of her.
Cooper H Oct 2015
Rhythmically swimming into the deep abyss of this weird world
Our weird world
Their lies a nebulous of unknown creativity
Invisibly bloodying sadly shallow water
And until I drown
In the shallow salty water
I cannot drown the things that make me frown
Albeit problems I have, mistakes I've made, grievances I've kept
I'll never truly know
The life I could live
Insecurity is my disease
Insecurity is my cure
Sanctifying malignance molds me
Makes me madly married to anxious uncertainty
And what ever happened to simplicity?
What ever happened to the world I haven’t known?
Waking up to witness a white-washed will and
Waking up and wishing I could swim back in time
To the salt of the water
To the shallow of the brim
To the  world of untapped love
Frank Russell Jul 2015
Dig maniacally
with fingernails
to Earth's core

Proceed banging,
bloodying the skull
against the iron sphere

Still, the question
"Substance?" remains ringing
through pulsing headache.


- fr
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
I and you, two for nothing
Compared against thunder and rain
The noise and the touch
Relentlessly and effortlessly
Conflicting, yet expected as such one seems

You and her, two for talking
Echoing the walls of prattled swine
The mud slings and the stench
Putridly and gagging’ly
Gossiping, yet lacking class in appearance

Her and I, two unknowns
Ever silent in past troubles
The scars and the memories
Bloodying and painfully
Dominating, yet drown-able in withdrawal

You and I, mismatched
Ever missing life's responsibilities
Reckless and disciplined
Village-raised and conserved
Fleeting, a pair that exists for nothing

© 2014
Mark Lecuona Dec 2014
My reaction at seeing you for the first time
was like blowing up a dam; the water pouring
out in a wave of destruction, quickly filling the
shallow channel that had been dug, not expecting
such a wonderous natural disaster

I knew I would lose part or all of you if I didn’t
dig deeper into the earth; bloodying my hands,
gasping for breath so as not to lose a moment
of your beauty or share it with another wanderer
waiting to swim upstream for your love

You allowed the force of your existence to crush
my life beyond all recognition while your worries
waited patiently, drifting slowly behind the deluge,
hoping not to be noticed while my senses exploded
into a thousand pieces

You denied me my breath, my sight, my thoughts,
my self-control; there was nothing I could do
except become the rapids themselves, no matter
the rocks or sudden current changes that made
my prior life no more than a tree torn from it's roots
Taylor Ganger Aug 2018
I thought I knew you
I called you a dark friend
Because we would always coexist
I thought I knew where you had your walls up
Where I could live as long as I
Didn’t get too close

Yet here I am
My face pressed against the plexiglass

Where I’ve reach out before,
I find my fingers crumpled
You are closing in, I know it
You are no dark friend
You are a suicidal maniac
Bent on destroying us both
The walls are caving in
And I’m bloodying my knuckles
Trying to get out of here
You can’t live without me!
But you don’t care,
And I know you’re ready to keep closing in
Until I either suffocate or am crushed
Together, we’ll fizzle out of this world

You need to be stopped,
But you’re moving too fast
I can’t get a hold of anything
If you won’t let me out of these walls

At least let something in!
Or just leave some room for me
Before you **** us both
I feel like no matter what I do, there is no way out. I think I'm struggling now more than I ever have.
MegAnne McNally Jul 2016
The last year of my life has been one massive panic attack,
some kind of nightmare without need for the night.
But in some things we find restitution,
the soul is returned to the vessel and the body begins a small sort of healing.

On the worst days,
when the noose winds its way around my neck,
when the 10 story fall doesn't seem so far anymore,
the little things keep my feet in the dirt,
keep my blood from leaving these tired veins.
When death opens its arms to welcome me,
to pull apart my wrists just to see how i bleed,  I seek solace in knowing that out there exists arms that feel like home,
that a heart beats that my anxious mind does not hesitate to trust,
that there is a body who is the safest place I know.
I have never known a purer human love  because it comes without want,
without need to be reciprocated,
But it is: it always is.

These past few weeks I have been making new friends,
People who already know more about me than the walls I grew up with,
more than the hands that kept me alive all these years.
And its because they understand what its like, to hold instruments close to find peace,
to use them to cry the tears your body cannot release,  
to scribble your feelings into a notepad hoping that in someway it could dull the ache in your soul.
These people have only touched my life for barely two day's length,
yet I know that I would do anything and everything to keep them safe.

I am slowly learning how to feel again, how to give love without ripping myself apart, without bloodying the knuckles of my heart.
And i know, I know; I Know
One day I won't wake with this blood under my nails from crawling out of my nightmares.
And i know, I know; I Know
That day I will wake and know somebody loves me
The secret I'll learn is that they always did and I was just too stubborn to see.
All that effort
With no real gain
Nothing to show for it
But tears and pain.

All that struggle
Against fearsome odds
Earned from the world
The briefest of nods.

All that caring-
Reaching out
No one cares
What I’m about.

Bloodying fists
Against brick walls-
I’m ready to answer
But no one calls.
          ljm
One step forward and two steps back.  Depression creeps in and out like the tide.
Alex Clarke May 2019
Dear one,
the nights
I have spent
bloodying my knees
screaming
Heaven help me
to a God
I do not
believe in,
waiting for
you -
soft as
a psalm -
to pull me
from
my devils.
Nevermind Oct 2015
The lights flicked on
One by one
They were so bright
Like a thousand suns
Closer and closer
Row by row
Knowing they were coming
My body froze
And finally the light
Poured down upon me
A mess of life
I couldn't speak
I couldn't move
It hurt so bad
Frantically looking
For a thought to grab
But it simply doesn't
Work that way
And the light just wouldn't
Go away
And suddenly an arena
Was built around me
I was on display
For all to see
A disgustingly pathetic
Reclusive freak
Their laser eyes blinking
In robotic sync
I'm hunching over
Head against my knees
Hoping to disappear
From these awful things
But such luck
Just won't come my way
So I'll suffer and suffer
Day by day
No one knows
Just what it's like
To have a hole
So big and wide
Right in the center
Of your heaving chest
Bloodying everything
You cherish best
A hole for wicked hands
To reach inside
And rip out everything
That keeps you alive
So I'll keep looking
For another soul
With stains of blood
Upon their clothes
And when I do
I'll reveal my own
The tragic flaw
That the anxious hold
Gun owners indiscriminately brandish
loaded firearms toward innocent victims,
and concomitantly excite
purported in accordance
with first amendment, relish
yet proliferation allowing
free ranging banshee dervish
sans weapons of mass destruction
(mainly innocent lives)
inures citizens to appear off fish
U.S., and self-important
becoming comfortably numb
at regular headlines detailing
some lone a bit mish
hug ha, an automatic killer
methodically unloading with a swish
multitudinous cartridges attempt
to evening the score, a wish
to take revenge viz a personal vendetta
amidst the madding crowds -
utter oy vay - tis Yiddish.

Such proliferation of
high-powered assault pistols
berserk arc with surging blip
bipedal hominid(s) grip
with a the hand a dirk in case the clip
doth miss the mark,
where siege mentality induces
nationwide sprint ting infamy to drip
metamorphosing into
malignant state with curled (Elvis) lip
mailer daemon hell bent
on besieging bait (unaware nip
*** nap noopy snapchatting beings)
bursting with deadly quip
with a barrage of bullets
malicious intent to spray
killing machines delivering rip
paying deathly howls
amidst pandemonium, thence funereal slip
epitaphs etched on tombstones proliferate
taking souls to Hades trip.

More often than not
such brutal and nasty team
(short lived) nefarious scheme
directed at humble lettered people
(like those comprising ream
member ring my hometown -
once evoked with pastoral meme
of Lake Woebegone) minding
their p's and q's, when in the extreme
and out of the blue like a nightmare
interrupting an idyllic dream
a sudden bitta bing bitta bang
rings terrorist catcall followed
by red tide and river of bloodying
bodied of hue men caskets
rendered veneer of dark wood
within lies corpse,
pistol whipped, where mortician
daub with creme.

soundcloud boom across
thus occurs yet another staccato sinister sonic
the pearl jam gray slate
of some formerly anonymous
name sake, which underline or boss
son or daughter of
***** blitzkrieg of shells cross
invisible trajectories shatter
(at shutterfly speed),
the democratic rubric - rendered as dross
disposable lives of society
with senseless slaughter,
whereat somber silence
echoes nostalgia for the Mill on the Floss
when life seemed so innocent
against the gun metal gloss
wails of agony at another human loss.

This epidemic re:
murderous love affair perfervid
with gruesome morbid
fixation allowing, enabling
and providing terrifying
trappings, whence went Pandora out the lid
anger loosed maniacally gun down
(in S-L-O-W mo) recorded by hid
madding crowd, each person
locked in crosshair grid
source (perhaps pathetic plan
premeditated) employing did
da ding from flying bullets,
a coterie upping the ante vis a vis bid
ding fare thee from odious
loading incendiary fiery clips.

Trigger happy homicidal maniacs slake thirst
to take aim in billeted soiree
with deadly precision, and spray
with pump posse city,
a congregated engaged groupon
of people), with egregious pay
shunt and methodically
mowing down, a slew - nay
re: doth unsuspecting
victim aware - delivering may
hem to this anonymous
American citizen as well
family and survivors, who lay
down their sorrows,
which bring revulsion and gray
obsolescence of faith in mankind to fray.

Death be not proud,
nor ought airtime allocated to these
heinous cavalier avengers
foe tee eight-hour special (proffers
twitchy finger itching to squeeze
especial easy access
to sophisticated high caliber compact
offspring doth please
manifesting those prize pride
killing machine owners never freeze
rapaciously with so much ease
lethal gimcrackery cutlasses
even a lil whippersnapper kite runner
unleashing whipping cords
lacerating more so than ropes will ever do  
necessitate strong control
to stem violence as disease.
Aimée Jan 2021
i knew my ability to trust was crippled the day you first lied to me.

it was always “i promise to stop the drinking” or “i promise i’ll cut down”.

i watched you turn into someone i would’ve never recognised had i walked past you on the street.

i watched your addiction tear you apart for the last 19 years and i couldn’t do anything to help.

i listened as your empty promises turned into another night of being drunk and falling everywhere and bloodying yourself.

i watched as you started to forget.

i watched as you learned your favourite phrase of “i don’t remember” when i would recall our favourite memories together.

i listened as you began to tell me that you are an example of what to avoid becoming.

i listened as you said things that no parent should ever tell their child.

i listened as i disregarded every mistake you ever made and trusted you each time another empty promise escaped past your lips along with the smell of alcohol laced with your breath.

you watched as i began to build my walls up and shut everyone out.

you watched as i, too, became unrecognisable.

you listened as i stopped caring about everyone and their little lies.

i watched as you had completely shattered the glass that held our bond, without even noticing.

i hate myself because, despite everything, i still believe your empty promises.


»a.n.o’h.
Black flag(s) show up
on social media platforms
when potential homicidal maniac(s)
communicate(s) intent to strike
with ambush and ready
read - able, eager, and willing
to embark upon murderous rampage.

Prospective killer armed to the teeth
usually a young bucking male
between ages of eighteen and twenty five
wielding, targeting subjects then firing
high powered choice powered guns such as:
Bushmaster XM15-E2S rifle;
Glock 20SF handgun
.22LR Savage Mark II bolt-action rifle
or AR-15-style rifle,
a popular range of semiautomatic weapons.

After countless shooters on the loose
wreaking havoc vis a vis carnage
****** death and destruction
indelibly etched upon consciousness
regarding every surviving person,
who hears and especially
witnesses the terrible and horrible news
anesthetized, brutalized, traumatized, et cetera
for his/her remaining existence.

Violent deadly crime spree shoots upward;
gun owners indiscriminately brandish
loaded firearms toward innocent victims,
and concomitantly excite anguish
purported in accordance
with first amendment relish,
yet proliferation allowing
free ranging banshee dervish
sans weapons of mass destruction
(mainly innocent lives)

inures citizens to appear standoff fish
U.S., and self-important solitudinarian
becoming comfortably numb
at regular headlines detailing
some lone hooligan a bit mish
hug ha, an automatic killer
methodically unloading with a swish
multitudinous cartridges attempt
oddly to even the score, a wish
to take revenge viz a personal vendetta
amidst the madding crowds -
utter oy vey - tis Yiddish.

Such proliferation of
high-powered assault pistols
graph berserk arc with surging blip
bipedal hominid(s) deadly grip
handling barrel as dirk in case the clip
doth miss the mark,
where siege mentality induces
nationwide sprinting infamy to drip
metamorphosing into igneous
malignant state with curled (Elvis) lip
mailer daemon hell bent
on besieging bait (unaware nip

*** nap noopy snapchatting beings)
bursting with deadly quip
with a barrage of bullets
malicious intent to spray;
killing machines delivering rip
paying deathly howls
amidst pandemonium, thence funereal slip
epitaphs etched on tombstones proliferate
taking souls to Hades trip
loved ones next of kin tragic loss
analogously suffering courtesy
stinging invisible whip.

More often than not
such brutal and nasty team
(short lived) nefarious scheme
unleashing angry people to rage and scream
directed at humble lettered people
like those comprising ream
member ring my hometown -
once evoked with pastoral meme
of Lake Wobegon minding
their p's and q's, when in the extreme

and out of the blue like a nightmare
interrupting an idyllic dream
a sudden bitta bing bitta bang
rings terrorist catcall followed
by red tide and river of bloodying
bodied of hue men caskets
rendered veneer of dark wood
within lies mutilated corpse,
pistol whipped, where mortician
daub with creme.

Soundcloud(s) boom(s) across,
thus occurs yet another
staccato sinister sonic thunder
across the pearl jam gray slate
of some formerly anonymous
name sake, which underling of bossed
son or daughter blasting
bombardment blitzkrieg shells cross
invisible trajectories shatter
at uber twittering, shutterfly speed,

the democratic rubric - rendered as dross
disposable lives of society
with senseless slaughter,
whereat somber silence
echoes nostalgia for the Mill on the Floss
when life seemed so innocent
against the gun metal gloss
wails of agony at another human loss
elapsing years tombstone covered with moss.

This epidemic re:
murderous love affair perfervid
with gruesome morbid
fixation allowing, enabling
and providing terrifying
trappings, whence went Pandora out the lid
anger loosed maniacally gun down
(in S-L-O-W mo) recorded by hid
den madding crowd, each person
locked in crosshair grid
source (perhaps pathetic plan
premeditated) employing did
da ding from flying bullets,
a coterie upping the ante vis a vis bid
ding fare thee well from odious
loading incendiary fiery clips.

Trigger happy homicidal maniacs slake thirst
finding me being verbally bullied
seem oh so yesterday
to take aim in billeted soiree
with deadly precision, and spray
with pump posse city,
a congregated engaged groupon
of people), with egregious pay

shunt and methodically
mowing down, a slew - nay
re: doth unsuspecting
victim aware - delivering melee
layered mayhem to this anonymous
American citizen as well
family and survivors, who lay
down their sorrows,
which bring revulsion and gray
obsolescence of faith in mankind to fray.

Death be not proud,
nor ought airtime allocated to these
heinous cavalier avengers
foe tee eight-hour special (proffers
twitchy finger itching to squeeze
especial easy access
to sophisticated high caliber compact
offspring doth please
manifesting those prize pride

killing machine owners never freeze
rapaciously with so much ease
lethal gimcrackery cutlasses
even a lil whippersnapper kite runner
unleashing whipping cords
will serve you more
lacerating more so than ropes will ever do
necessitate strong control
to stem violence as disease.
Cedric McClester Dec 2020
By: Cedric McClester

I guess it figures
They were just sand *******
And his heart’s been hardened
So he chose to pardon
Their Blackwater killers
Mercenary distillers
Of death and destruction
It’s a logical deduction

They were hell-bent
Destroying whoever went
Beyond a certain point
By bloodying up the joint
They all were identified
And convicted once tried
But now the controversy’s starting
Since he gave them a pardon

Iraqi innocents
Dead and gone since
The sons and daughters
Of people who never fought us
Victims of the slaughter
Perpetrated by Blackwater
Monetarily driven
Now all but forgiven

Though of brown  skin
Neither foe nor friend
Killed for no good reason
During that killing season
From the evidence we see
They were killed summarily
And their killers let out
Left to mingle and walk about












Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2020.  All rights reserved.
Butch Decatoria Nov 2019
Black on white
Canvas
Paper
These feelings I write
The art of inner peace
All about perspective
(Night and Day, Light or Blind)

Can't have one without the other
If we're Life on Earth
The world our mother
That makes us brothers

It's not all black and white
But what spills out
Is a work of Art
Swill of stains

One inside another
Ink confessing pains
Blacks on whites
Bloodying
Canvas
For
Paper.
(Spilling ink)

— The End —