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Lost Soul Oct 2018
"Do what I say no matter the cost"
I am what they want me to be
My feelings are numb
My soul is lost
It's fine if I'm not whole
All they need is my body
My bones cry out
My skins is a sheet covering the holes
I have little energy to even breathe
I cry till my lungs have no air
I stuff my face in a pillow
My jaw aches while I clench my teeth
All the oxygen in the room leaves
Dark thoughts swarm my head
Depression holds me while I heave
I could just die
I feel worthless, I am nothing
I watch as everyone leaves
I don't know how long I can do this
Got to get away
Its not like I'll be missed
No one around me cares
I'm a breathing corpse
I guess its true
Life's not fair
Billie Eilish
Jon Thenes Aug 2018
With a raffling breath
I sate death neatly
I am now in trust
Dead
And being played into new life
There's a swelling of new strifes
and wavings from within
Heats of organisms
Worlds accelerating
Pulsion
Gases waste and gases invitations
take place where I have been
A celebration
A bedding
If only The Humans would leave
the 'Dead Body' be
Just when I am finally achieved
They make a bother
I'll make out a doner card
No, a placard
"No Preservation Upon Death !
Corpse Rights Remain !"
lila Mar 30
did you know
1 in 5 women
will be ***** during her lifetime
but every 1 has a name
and every name has a story
and no one story
is ever the same
mine isn’t any exception

it didn’t happen at all
like u think it did
there were no shadowy figures
reaching out rough hands
to pull me into an empty alley
as i walked the streets alone at night
8 out of 10 rapes are by someone you know

my body wasn’t a rag doll
to be thrown against a brick wall
while ****** objections flew
from my mouth like cannonballs

it was just us
in a space that was ours
a hushed no living and dying on my lips
the scary sweet nothings
whispered in my ear
must have drowned out the tides
rolling in and streaming
down my cheeks
because your hand never once left my throat
and you didn’t stop

i was nothing more than a shiny object
laid out on a dingy sheet
for you to devour
made to please

but when i rusted
i was abandoned
right where u took me
a corpse to rot
amongst the flowers
but if u squint hard
i may be pretty enough
to use again
3/28/2018
Midnight Rain Sep 2018
i collapse like a dying star every night

some how i am nothing more
than dark matter
endlessly slipping away from this world

the night arrives with my death
hanging above me,
and like every sunrise before this, i know
i am doomed

i am a wreck
as the morning awakes
every bone is aching, every part of me
is weary  
but with time, i carry my grave out of bed

gold slants of the sun
break through the window
yet it is never enough to
chase away the darkness beneath
my eyes

it is never enough to remind me i am still alive

—sometimes the light i see before my demise is the same light that i wake up to; sometimes the memories are my death and sometimes they are what breathe me back to life
with a lead bullet dancing in my head
i’ll send the petals flying
onto the tombstone where which i lay
with shriveled lilacs dying.

dormant my figure shall wait
under the snows of winter’s rage
beneath the dirt i lay.

i will turn from flesh and bone into
daffodils and daisies.
the blooming of my corpse

i will be left forgotten.
down here within my coffin
i will be left
rotten.
my flowers shall bloom
and my body will be no more than petals plucked by a lovesick fool
J J Oct 23
A crow kissing skeleton skull
   And pecking dirt in the process.

Lace my ashes with flower seeds
   So that I may live a little longer.

I'd love to feel the rain
  Drip down my veins once again,
And make-believe the strid formed
    Will never dissapear. But

The dead don't get to decide that much
   Ahead.
Crow bleeding sunny black eyes, sing a song
As we

         Cross into morning. Crow, that maps my skin
          In sanskrit, please go a little softer. It's not
          That I never expected to die, it's just that I
           Never pictured it so sudden; and it's still

So long to go until I'm found...
Crow, would you be so kind as
To keep me company until then?
Alyssa Underwood Apr 2017
Might there be a fountain
where souls long dead from thirst
find spirits raised to life in floods abounding free,
so that what once walked as corpse,
night-bound and blind, may see?
Old self exchanged for Treasure,
diving in tastes such rejuvenation
as can't be weighed by mortal measure—
wine unlike our earth-grown fruit whose petals fall,
from this Vine flowers the pleasantness of Love Divine
which bathes in healing waters all
who come as humble newborn with bold **** to dine.
"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"  John 4:13-14

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in Me will never be thirsty.'"  John 6:35

"On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.'"  John 7:37-38

"'I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.'"  John 15:5

~~~

Structure inspired by a poem from the journal of Jim Elliot
PoserPersona Jul 2018
Idly stationed in the bucolic hills,
sits a stone well; unknown when abandoned.
Though her people foregone, water yet fills
as much as you can want for. In tandem,
are high trees less old than she; occluding
the view from pathless and naive strangers.
As their wish in well is to keep obtuse,
those that siren would otherwise capture.
Her drink, one thinks they'll constantly receive.
In reality, they'll only be taken.
Youth will fade as the heart minutely bleeds.
Their hollow, dried corpse will be forsaken.
And though her hole but a tall dark crevice,
I see my reflection on the surface.
Alyssa Underwood May 2016
Might there be a fountain
where souls long dead from thirst
find spirits raised to life in floods abounding free,
so that what once walked as corpse,
night-bound and blind, may see?
Old self exchanged for Treasure,
diving in tastes such rejuvenation
as can't be weighed by mortal measure—
wine unlike our earth-grown fruit whose petals fall,
from this Vine flowers the pleasantness of Love Divine
which bathes in healing waters all
who come as humble newborn with bold **** to dine.
"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"  John 4:13-14

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in Me will never be thirsty.'"  John 6:35

"On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.'"  John 7:37-38

"'I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.'"  John 15:5


~~~

Structure inspired by a poem from the journal of Jim Elliot

Repost
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
Might there be a fountain
where souls long dead from thirst
find spirits raised to life in floods abounding free,
so that what once walked as corpse,
night-bound and blind, may see?
Old self exchanged for Treasure,
diving in tastes such rejuvenation
as can't be weighed by mortal measure—
wine unlike our earth-grown fruit whose petals fall,
from this Vine flowers the pleasantness of Love Divine
which bathes in healing waters all
who come as humble newborn with bold **** to dine.
"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"  John 4:13-14

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in Me will never be thirsty.'"  John 6:35

"On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.'"  John 7:37-38

"'I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.'"  John 15:5


~~~

Structure inspired by a poem from the journal of Jim Elliot
Naj Nov 18
All my years I’ve been preparing to die,
and now they’re forcing me to stay alive
Claiming they can heal my wounded soul
by shocking my brain causing more trauma

How do you go back
from being buried?
How do you find peace
when you know what’s awaiting you?
How do you love
when your heart has stopped?
How do you remember
when you’ve lost your mind?
How do you cry
when you don’t have tears?
How do you overcome your past
if it’s still your present?
What do people do with their lives
if their whole being didn’t yearn for its doom?

How do I start?
Where do I begin?

This is the first day of my life
where I’m not suicidal, and
I don’t know what there is to do
when death was my only salvation

I don’t know this new version of me;
the one who doesn’t find it impossible
to stay for another day,
another endless night

I’m scared of shifting back
I’m scared of being buried
by my own deadly psyche
I’m scared of dying again

Things are more lighter and clearer now
The elephant in the room is no
longer perched upon my chest,
and my wrists are no longer
bleeding only the scars remains

What if I get hungry again and can’t
find anything to feed on, but my own blood?
What if I woke up in a casket again?

I can’t help but wonder
for how long is this going to last?
How long am I going to last?
I hope this lasts,
I can hope like others do!
I’m hoping again
which is a sign of life!

Am I deluding myself?
Am I better or worse?

I need someone to squeeze my hand
just so I know that this is real
It’s dangerous when you’re stuck
in a state where nothing feels real
No matter how deep
you went to draw blood,
you still don’t feel like you’re here

In my head I’ve already
killed myself, long ago,
and now my corpse is
somehow trying to breathe again?

This goes against logic
This goes against my own head
My head is going against
its own suicidal thoughts
 
Am I going to look back at this,
and not believe that one day
One day I felt alive enough to breathe,
and not wish I wasn't
A burst of emotions I felt a month ago, but I’m buried by my own deadly psyche once again. I wish those feelings lasted for longer. Perhaps I was manic during that time. I just wish I wasn’t so suicidal. I’ve completely given up.
Sam Hammond Nov 2018
Going through the motions,
A corpse on puppet strings.
Showing no emotions,
Too wooden for such things.
One day I'll be locked away
Inside my wooden crate.
Till that day I'll dance and sway;
A much more awful fate.
empty seas Nov 2018
i can’t do this
i’m not good enough

i can’t control my own actions recently
obsessively checking and checking
to see if someone is talking about me behind my back

i ate close to 4 meals today
i just ate and ate and even when i was full
i couldn’t stop
even now my stomach yells at me
so full yet so hungry
and the whispers say just throw up
but i’m still too cowardly to try

i can’t stop shaking
if not my hands, my legs
if not my legs, my teeth
at one point i could feel my brain inside my skull
everything is uncomfortable and hurts
so, so much

i am a failure
i am a failure
and i need to drill it though my
rotting brain
before self confidence comes again
i can’t do anything
i can’t practice for a state competition
i can’t study for the ACT
i can’t even keep myself from tearing
the inside of my cheek apart
in an attempt to stay calm
i’m rotting

i am falling apart
i can’t do this
i’m not good enough
i am a failure
NP Jan 8
Tragic corpses,
Memories of yore,
Withered float
Upon swelled brine;

Limbs regress
By night to my shore
And by morn
Few ribbons of flesh

Far many of them
(Which shalt never take place)
Stranded last night
Idle, lapsed and inert

Now cometh recollecting
The scraps of this gore
Take sail to high seas
With a mast and the winds.
Sara Kellie Dec 2018
Under the birthstones
in the carcass yard
is where the flesh tombs lie.
Decomposing for three long years.
Eradicating memories,
dreams and fears.
Becoming next, the black gloop
treacle of putrification.
Now bones, just old bones
is the remain of what was once,
a spirit with a name.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Birthstones = gravestones
Carcass yard = graveyard
Flesh tomb = a body (alive or dead)
King Panda Sep 2015
my love has 1000x
the energy of a
dead corpse

viscosity

singing telephone
wire

aeolion
harp

my heart beats
like a rabbit’s

me
the prey
crouching in
tall grass
ears flat
legs ready
to spring
with dusk’s
breath

I will continue
to shake
with this
expression
King Panda Jan 2018
the sun beats
loose fence stakes into
the ground
and I kiss each ray
as if it were
my own child

the sky rains down
a corpse of butterflied
snow

its wings—
a brace
to bend my
broken legs straight

my love
begins to crawl
setting the dry
snow aflame
burning patterns
in the mandala
snowfall

sun’s flame
whips its invisible
lion

snow lets the
growl pass through

and my bones
cackle
setting straight
the image of
sunny snowfall
this sunday
morning
Leah Jan 19
dead air hangs heaviest on phone calls cut short
the static hummed like an ancient hornets nest in my head
deep imprints left from landline buttons on my cheek
i thought if i pressed hard enough
i could pretend plastic resembled the feeling of his face against mine
i thought if i pressed hard enough
i could pretend the static sounded like his voice in my ear

he told me once that he liked my skin
but what he meant is that he liked it better on the floor
i would have never guessed how quickly hungry hands could eat me alive
but i wanted their starvation to be my salvation
i always knew i was a better window than a wall
but I didn’t know how easy it was to see through me

seven syllables like bee stings
my throat began to swell like his words themselves were anaphylactic
and as i began to see stars i pretended i was in shock
he left me like a bullet exits a body and i guess that’s what i get for loving a loaded gun
but I’ve always been known to be the first to pull the trigger
roulette was just a way to pass the time between waking and sleeping

i was a phantom of longing and lament
i missed his hands even when they were around my neck
i wasn’t a woman
i was shades of blue and violet and unwarrented violence

the perverse pleasure of pain
left like a malady in my mind that spread across my nervous system
and seeped its way into my bone marrow
the only chemo i could find were empty beds and dark rooms
indiscriminately i handed myself to the radiation of sterile hands and nameless faces
i wanted them to rearrange my molecules
or at least help me shed the skin he had liked so much

etched into my eyelids in glowing persistence were the words he left me with
i hung onto them, i gripped them tightly, white knuckled desperation i clung to the sound of your voice rattling like a chain link fence in my mind
“you will never be enough”
i wanted so badly for you to be the cure i made myself love-sick
lust and limerence felt like love even when the landline went dead
i realized that corpses have a funny way of staying just alive enough to get through the day
saige May 2018
velcro wallet
was navy, i think
gray plastic zipper
grandma gave you
i had a locket
it had your picture inside
but you threw it away
because you looked like a rabbit
apparently
hair fluffed, eyes puffy
two teeth and two hours
of squirming on a photo booth

plastic coin pouch
small crayola blue
walmart sticker on a side
but it never made me smile
not like that piggy bank did
yard sale treasure
dinosaur-shaped
no smashing to withdrawl
our tooth fairy dollars and dust
still, you crammed stink bugs
down the long neck's back

now, a denim bag on my bed
rhinestoned one in the closet
and your wallet is
real leather, i think
has superheroes on it
rough and grungy
as the comic books in the attic
or, did you toss those too?

who needs a screwdriver
without a *****?
that's all money was
just hardware we didn't have
much use for
but there is more than one way
to use a tool
so here, i'll paint it straighter
who needs a coffin without a corpse?
especially when we were
so full of life back then
Elemenohp Feb 2011
He breaks her, and degrades her,
Her pain makes him smile.
Though only for the shortest while,
For he isn't sure that she won't get up,
And it's his job to make her feel stuck
To this feeling, she's worth nothing.

You're a *****, you're a *****,
And you're always wanting more.
You get what you deserve.
Girl, you've got some nerve.
You live, you eat, you breathe my air.
You know **** well it isn't fair,
Cause it's all mine. You've had your share.
Take one more breath, if you dare.
I'll choke you with your own **** hair
And toss your corpse, right over there.

You're not worth the time to burry,
In fact, I'll forget you in a hurry.
The main thing I never gave;
Was a **** for you, or what you could do.
*******
Alfa Oct 2018
There's a dead friend in my closet that no one ever liked.
I know they are still there.
but, I ignore it until someone brings them up again.
I evade the question, as if I did not **** them.
As if their bones did not crumble when I touched them.
As if I did not take their soul when I told them.
Guilt falls over me.
I lay awake at 2 a.m.
Sometimes I check to see if they may come back to life,
they are always the same as I left them.
Dead and unchanging,
and everyone praises the day the corpse died.
But, I cannot understand how to feel happy,
without a person in my life
A poem I wrote after leaving a 6 year friendship.
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