Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"gashing" poems
How could I have been so close Yet so far away The gap in the distance is more intense than I'd actually like to say It feels like almost yesterday, where the smiles or frowns that came around Never settling in the crest we call a "face" It wasn't as fake as it was now The warmth of your smile turned the mood around Even if it was disappointing I couldn't help but try a bit harder for the sake of being friends Cause that's what they do, staying true, yes true Not saying I've caught them in a lie It just feels a little blue, on the other side I wish I could hold your hand, just to adore This, space that we once had It's not the same years later and I know things have changed Again this isn't a plead for help Just my old thoughts into an expression Takes it like the old way of written out confessions If I had to be convicted Id be in for a long sentence Like the, I broke a promise and left without saying a word, Sad how we make it seem like it was the another's fault that we're this way... Though in the end, it was selfish actions... selfish actions...selfish actions...and self-indulgence That pushed the gap and broke the space apart Id like to say sorry as a start in the right way Though I don't think that would mend the nasty tear that's been every slowly gashing We've been on the rocks thrashing about in a glass cup smashing with fruit juice and ***** I remember the sweet cheers of that kiss and the hard rocks on the bed I understand it, I do I lived in the misery of your happiness that shined through I wanted to use your opening and vent without considering what your feelings meant That this was a special event, and I wasn't just getting experience but giving it too Where sweet words never left the heart Where promises were meant to last I formally apologize, I can't take it away for what has happened But I'll keep moving forward regardless of forgiveness I don't expect to walk back into a life that I created so many problems for And I understand completely if these words cannot pierce through like a sword It's no point that way
0
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
Bitter Sweet Memories
How could I have been so close Yet so far away The gap in the distance is more intense than I'd actually like to say It feels like almost yesterday, where the smiles or frowns that came around Never settling in the crest we call a "face" It wasn't as fake as it was now The warmth of your smile turned the mood around Even if it was disappointing I couldn't help but try a bit harder for the sake of being friends Cause that's what they do, staying true, yes true Not saying I've caught them in a lie It just feels a little blue, on the other side I wish I could hold your hand, just to adore This, space that we once had It's not the same years later and I know things have changed Again this isn't a plead for help Just my old thoughts into an expression Takes it like the old way of written out confessions If I had to be convicted Id be in for a long sentence Like the, I broke a promise and left without saying a word, Sad how we make it seem like it was the another's fault that we're this way... Though in the end, it was selfish actions... selfish actions...selfish actions...and self-indulgence That pushed the gap and broke the space apart Id like to say sorry as a start in the right way Though I don't think that would mend the nasty tear that's been every slowly gashing We've been on the rocks thrashing about in a glass cup smashing with fruit juice and ***** I remember the sweet cheers of that kiss and the hard rocks on the bed I understand it, I do I lived in the misery of your happiness that shined through I wanted to use your opening and vent without considering what your feelings meant That this was a special event, and I wasn't just getting experience but giving it too Where sweet words never left the heart Where promises were meant to last I formally apologize, I can't take it away for what has happened But I'll keep moving forward regardless of forgiveness I don't expect to walk back into a life that I created so many problems for And I understand completely if these words cannot pierce through like a sword It's no point that way
Continue reading...
39
Into the sunlight burning my pale tainted skin I fall; Out from the darkness I lived where I walk before I crawl I'm a being no man can describe yet I am marked as a horror; I meant no harm but this is how I live a cycle causing' terror Understanding my nature is like a puzzle picture a piece is always missing; Dig deeper and you will find the answers right before your neck, blood will start gashing Never will I myself will ever understand why am I brought to this world and for what purpose?; For the balance perhaps? That we all must accept that light and darkness never coexist and that what truth has exposed... Sacrifice what a noble suffering one can offer for love and devotion; What I do now, will it set the order for safety and to create a new world in motion? I doubt one can even notice or even give credit to my self righteous suicide; I'm a fool to even care so much that I am ready to give my life for violence to subside... Maybe I am just tired living in the shadows creeping in the night to feed; I envy men for their freedom that I even often ask what's the difference they also live in greed Why must I care so much for their safety?I am living the life I am offered so are they; But why am I feared the most for their violence is worst yet I am the only one known as a monster... Too late to ponder more, I made my choice so long and goodbye I bid farewell; It is a good day to die funny it's the first time I see the sunlight and touched my skin burning them well; Blood is boiling like acid tearing my bones melting as I feel pain as I scream; Freedom it is this the end of me to the earth I return as ashes filling an urn to the brim.
0
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 5:29 AM UTC
The ****** & Decay, A Vampire's Sorrowful Bliss
Into the sunlight burning my pale tainted skin I fall; Out from the darkness I lived where I walk before I crawl I'm a being no man can describe yet I am marked as a horror; I meant no harm but this is how I live a cycle causing' terror Understanding my nature is like a puzzle picture a piece is always missing; Dig deeper and you will find the answers right before your neck, blood will start gashing Never will I myself will ever understand why am I brought to this world and for what purpose?; For the balance perhaps? That we all must accept that light and darkness never coexist and that what truth has exposed... Sacrifice what a noble suffering one can offer for love and devotion; What I do now, will it set the order for safety and to create a new world in motion? I doubt one can even notice or even give credit to my self righteous suicide; I'm a fool to even care so much that I am ready to give my life for violence to subside... Maybe I am just tired living in the shadows creeping in the night to feed; I envy men for their freedom that I even often ask what's the difference they also live in greed Why must I care so much for their safety?I am living the life I am offered so are they; But why am I feared the most for their violence is worst yet I am the only one known as a monster... Too late to ponder more, I made my choice so long and goodbye I bid farewell; It is a good day to die funny it's the first time I see the sunlight and touched my skin burning them well; Blood is boiling like acid tearing my bones melting as I feel pain as I scream; Freedom it is this the end of me to the earth I return as ashes filling an urn to the brim.
Continue reading...
20
Consciousness, mindfulness, philosophical enlightenment - Live for the **** of it. Camus was right to breathe in spite of the tide of crushing emptiness. The boulder gets heavy, the bones grow weary, the mountain is steep and we are steeped in irony. For life can be deadly and death's rows of gravestones mark homes for freed slaves, their crossed arms hiding scars left by the teeth of nihilistic grief beatings and surgery scalpels set to carve by frequent false alarms. Sisyphus took but one break, to hear the chains rattled from the gates, hellish obsidian, vermilion flames licking lumps of silica grains mixed with ash and a black tar splash. And Orpheus sighed on the lyre and brought tears to the eyes of the most vile, while Sisyphus paused - not long, but a lifetime for those still free to subside to dust, from blood and guts, when their time arrives. The trials of life, the striving rites and lavish gifts of light to defy the black and empty dusk still fail. Eurydice grows pale as Orpheus turns to see her cheeks losing every trace of peach hue, eyes emptying, lungs leaking their last gale. Struggling again, Sisyphus is sent tumbling down the face of the great mountain, grabbing gravel and sand and gashing gaps in his hard leather hands. Bleeding ash, not blood, hot red mud dripping from the thick lacerations, mixing with the sickening avalanche of wasted effort and waylaid plans. Repeating the climb up the steep peak, bones creaking like a clock's gears, rattling off the seconds, minutes, hours, years until the watch stops its panicked hands. Until then we will toil unswayed as we wear stones to clay, carving winding paths in spirals up the mountain's waist. No calm for those with breath, no rest for beating hearts. We must live in spite of life, and then sink silent to the earth.
0
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 5:33 AM UTC
Myth of Sisyphus
Consciousness, mindfulness, philosophical enlightenment - Live for the **** of it. Camus was right to breathe in spite of the tide of crushing emptiness. The boulder gets heavy, the bones grow weary, the mountain is steep and we are steeped in irony. For life can be deadly and death's rows of gravestones mark homes for freed slaves, their crossed arms hiding scars left by the teeth of nihilistic grief beatings and surgery scalpels set to carve by frequent false alarms. Sisyphus took but one break, to hear the chains rattled from the gates, hellish obsidian, vermilion flames licking lumps of silica grains mixed with ash and a black tar splash. And Orpheus sighed on the lyre and brought tears to the eyes of the most vile, while Sisyphus paused - not long, but a lifetime for those still free to subside to dust, from blood and guts, when their time arrives. The trials of life, the striving rites and lavish gifts of light to defy the black and empty dusk still fail. Eurydice grows pale as Orpheus turns to see her cheeks losing every trace of peach hue, eyes emptying, lungs leaking their last gale. Struggling again, Sisyphus is sent tumbling down the face of the great mountain, grabbing gravel and sand and gashing gaps in his hard leather hands. Bleeding ash, not blood, hot red mud dripping from the thick lacerations, mixing with the sickening avalanche of wasted effort and waylaid plans. Repeating the climb up the steep peak, bones creaking like a clock's gears, rattling off the seconds, minutes, hours, years until the watch stops its panicked hands. Until then we will toil unswayed as we wear stones to clay, carving winding paths in spirals up the mountain's waist. No calm for those with breath, no rest for beating hearts. We must live in spite of life, and then sink silent to the earth.
Continue reading...
56
i shed pounds of hair when i shave my back, chest, neck, shoulders, abs, and below. It falls lightly as the electric blades become hot on my body gashing into my un-satisified self. i am a hairy **** i am a hairy ******* man. i am a hairy man. i am a man. but here i am shaving everything off so i can be the boy of your dreams, the boy of your dreams. And now, my body burns but I cannot bear it; looking like a bear.
0
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 2:56 AM UTC
I am Hairy
Candles once burnt in the night But a cold wind took their light I was cast down into damnation With no hope of finding salvation No one listened to be heard A voice speaking without a word Who could rescue a fallen soul That could find no place to go A gothic ghost screaming out Like some demented Banshees shout Crawling through the filth of disgrace Ice cold tears falling on my face An endless night without stories to tell Countless doors leading to Hell Nightmares daring to be my end Gashing wounds try to offend I fight back and yell "no more" Bandage up this festering sore Stop cutting my soul with this knife Time to fight in the war of life Copyright Chris Smith 2013
0
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 4:05 PM UTC
423: Crying Tears Now Cold
when you so dear to me do hurt me a pinpoint ***** is a razor’s slashing edge make gashing wounds and bleeding drains me bound scars to testify to the hurt the doer do magnify i flee my brittle tiny shell and don the mask of mirth but fleeing never find a chambered nautilus which i would exchange for mine a twig is bent a leaf is fallen a grain of sand is lost a page is torn teardrop falls a lost one calls when trust has grown when choice is blind when reason cannot reason a little twist a careless wink an unintended turnabout eats up a painful way to the heart that loves.
0
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 7:51 PM UTC
my brittle tiny shell
my heart with a gashing hole from a mythical screwdriver rising out of my problem filled mind, confused and mixed up brain escaping from my diminishing soul
0
Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 10:22 AM UTC
escape
I am sure, it might be midnight somewhere Sun long gone to where I'll never know Moons sing songs while rivers flow Gashing and sifting between rocks Crashing with utter silence Everything breaks apart Leaving scars in the heart That can only be healed by being apart We are together only at the start But in the end the storm is going to tear us apart Soon the storm will pass and I will love again Looking toward the horizon I took a deep, long breath And dove into the water Sinking slowly, deep into the blue Elephant, which means the dream was about to come true And then something amazing happened Something I could have never imagined. Pains me to think of the money I will never see. Awash in the blue, I am losing my mind Mind of a squirrel going nuts Scampered down the street, needing more food But he couldn't find any so he went home and got high Lost his thoughts and began to cry.
0
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 11:46 AM UTC
The Exquisite Corpse
There are hooks in you I am only fickle finned I cannot swim fast enough To **** my mouth onto yours Because- There are games in you A hunting sport A terror red ravaging game You relish it as the juices drip down your chin There are hooks in you And I am only fickle finned Pulling me into you Teeth and claws sharper, gashing deeper -Secret pleasure in the raw raw flesh There are rumours shrouding you Bullet words hurtling through my skull Plumetting through leaves, through everything I know There are hooks in you And I am only feather winged I cannot float fast enough To embed your bullet in my chest Because- This is a game to you A hunting sport A biting, sinking, blood filled game There are hooks in you And all this hunting, swelling, biting All this heaving, sweating, fighting All this terror, flying, swimming All this hooking, shooting, chasing Does me no good, For I am fickle finned I am feather winged And this is a game To you.
0
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 4:17 AM UTC
Hooks.
So you are gone, I realized this tonight At the thousandth night of our separation, Stars glittering, Moon playing hide & seek Same like the night you and I talked last, How I hated change and How I found it at every step I took, is inexplicable. The promises were not plenty to stay. Oaths were mere other words said in frenzy Washed in the first rain of the season. All those texts I wrote, stanzas I composed Were not enough to win you. I ask you; was I that bad? I remember me; so different than now Awake all night waiting for your call to start talks having no purport, To listen your gasps, kisses and breathe and yawn Every moment felt like you were breathing unto me Traversing miles, splashing on face, Warm in winters, cool in summer nights, your breath reached; Inhaling all, I stored it inside Like a souvenir; to remind me how close we were once. You said, you “are weak in catching the hidden meanings In my poems”. How ignorant I was to not listen But if you were around now, I'd explain those connotative lines full with request and pleas, I had typed in midnight emotions tears gashing; Only had simple meaning; I long and yearn to live with you, around you, beside you every second. If I’d known substitutes of hundred diverse emotions spinning, I'd have used it to avoid your confusion. But I didn’t find. My rotten luck! Sometimes, I ponder If you're there to see me awake all night for words that can match you; your radiant beauty, then all would have been different. But you're not there to witness the devotion. To my ill-fate, words carry only pictures Reading depends on the reader, And you read it all different than I intended, Maybe, it’s the fault of my poetry broken and stained in failure Never achieved the power to conquer you forever. Every word I wrote haunt me onwards See, the sorrow I'm indulged in, When you have forgotten my existence, and the love we shared. Still, after all these years I fighting with change Waken all night weary, tired, sleepy; Write you in poems!
0
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
Thousandth Night
So you are gone, I realized this tonight At the thousandth night of our separation, Stars glittering, Moon playing hide & seek Same like the night you and I talked last, How I hated change and How I found it at every step I took, is inexplicable. The promises were not plenty to stay. Oaths were mere other words said in frenzy Washed in the first rain of the season. All those texts I wrote, stanzas I composed Were not enough to win you. I ask you; was I that bad? I remember me; so different than now Awake all night waiting for your call to start talks having no purport, To listen your gasps, kisses and breathe and yawn Every moment felt like you were breathing unto me Traversing miles, splashing on face, Warm in winters, cool in summer nights, your breath reached; Inhaling all, I stored it inside Like a souvenir; to remind me how close we were once. You said, you “are weak in catching the hidden meanings In my poems”. How ignorant I was to not listen But if you were around now, I'd explain those connotative lines full with request and pleas, I had typed in midnight emotions tears gashing; Only had simple meaning; I long and yearn to live with you, around you, beside you every second. If I’d known substitutes of hundred diverse emotions spinning, I'd have used it to avoid your confusion. But I didn’t find. My rotten luck! Sometimes, I ponder If you're there to see me awake all night for words that can match you; your radiant beauty, then all would have been different. But you're not there to witness the devotion. To my ill-fate, words carry only pictures Reading depends on the reader, And you read it all different than I intended, Maybe, it’s the fault of my poetry broken and stained in failure Never achieved the power to conquer you forever. Every word I wrote haunt me onwards See, the sorrow I'm indulged in, When you have forgotten my existence, and the love we shared. Still, after all these years I fighting with change Waken all night weary, tired, sleepy; Write you in poems!
Continue reading...
58
Shaman who is keeping the flame. Dancing like it's his last day. Holding many secrets, knowing many fates. Brown stubby knotted fingers do the pointing. The young brown pups do the fetching. Guiding the meek, chanting history. He taught my family how to preserve mother. Sometimes for sport, sometimes for balance. Insisted we did this favour; not as ritual, but as rite. We wait until the moon is filled of Mars. We sing our people's song. Sometimes a harmony, sometimes a challenge. To do the shamans work; maybe ***** We roam in threes, sometimes fours. Our sanctified goal to slay mother's cousin. Tall ones, brown like us, bones gnarly from skull. We huff, and puff; the winter cold. Lungs tired after kissing the chilly breeze. The tundra lit up with a crimson sheen. Fatiguing the march, yet we fly. Hunters we hunt, fast with four legs. We single a herd, resting their heads. We focus the small ones, biting and gashing. They fell like birch trees, painting the powder. Outnumbering us, sport turns to anxiety. We bite, gnaw, **** and claw. They fall hard to the Earth. We don't feast, we have a mission. Looting the bones, we keep them in submission. Thinning them out; is our fed intuition. Brothers grow tired, the prey devastated. Mars reflects to us, as if saying mother is pleased. The young brown pups do the fetching.
0
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 1:35 AM UTC
Surplus Killing
**** MY FIST COPYRIGHT 2011 DAVID EHRGOTT Lucy Lucy What have you done ******* a kid well it ain't no fun Bashing and gashing covering him My right forearm hurts like sin Lucy Lucy Kiss me kiss Match the left one by doing this Just **** My Fist **** My Fist Yeah **** My Fist **** My Fist Lucy Lucy ******* me blue Here is all that she did do Slapped me around; Put me through walls That ************* Lucille Ball So **** my Fist Yeah **** My Fist just **** My Fist **** My Fist **** My Fist **** My Fist **** my Fist **** My Fist Tuesday Weld was not a Ball She frigged herself and that was all But Lucy had a *** playpen For children around the age of ten so **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST Surviving this is not a bliss and my arm, it hurts like **** I raise it up to tell the world That Lucille Ball was my first girl that ****** MY FIST YEAH SHE ****** MY FIST ****** MY FIST YEAH SHE ****** MY FIST SO **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST JUST **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT SAID **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT JUST **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT SAID **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT Little boys of only ten Should not be used like that again But you know Hollywood and them I'll save the world and tell them just to **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST Lucy did it why don't you just **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST Hollywood Hollywood just kiss this I've really had enough of your **** so **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST...
0
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
EXPLICIT (NOBODY LOOK)
**** MY FIST COPYRIGHT 2011 DAVID EHRGOTT Lucy Lucy What have you done ******* a kid well it ain't no fun Bashing and gashing covering him My right forearm hurts like sin Lucy Lucy Kiss me kiss Match the left one by doing this Just **** My Fist **** My Fist Yeah **** My Fist **** My Fist Lucy Lucy ******* me blue Here is all that she did do Slapped me around; Put me through walls That ************* Lucille Ball So **** my Fist Yeah **** My Fist just **** My Fist **** My Fist **** My Fist **** My Fist **** my Fist **** My Fist Tuesday Weld was not a Ball She frigged herself and that was all But Lucy had a *** playpen For children around the age of ten so **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST Surviving this is not a bliss and my arm, it hurts like **** I raise it up to tell the world That Lucille Ball was my first girl that ****** MY FIST YEAH SHE ****** MY FIST ****** MY FIST YEAH SHE ****** MY FIST SO **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST JUST **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT SAID **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT JUST **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT SAID **** IT BABY YEAH **** IT Little boys of only ten Should not be used like that again But you know Hollywood and them I'll save the world and tell them just to **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST Lucy did it why don't you just **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST Hollywood Hollywood just kiss this I've really had enough of your **** so **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST **** MY FIST...
Continue reading...
79
my fiery and forgiving god of mischievous delight and pranks who holds me in his loving embrace to shield me from harm guide me and protect me from the stabbing swords that have fell on me cutting, slicing and gashing into me to cry in anguish and pain love me and be tender to me like a gentle, caring lover that will never betray me, pray to you my ever loving handsome god, loki, may the valkyries bless me as well and guard me as well as loki's children keep me from danger
0
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 6:51 PM UTC
ode to the fiery god loki
There is an inch of sleight in this house – this cold chair, a burst of cologne clogging a 20 minute stride. The stringent air tonight blusters deeper than gashing sheens. The little dryad of dew outside and the cadenza of frogs after lambaste of rain. Whenever you sing, your voice communes an immense pain, something unconscious of its gravity, something that levitates back to momentary ululations swelling in the grime of times and heady chances. A long stretch of a day submerged in silence resembling a howl underwater. There will be many sorrows and they will take form of doves, assume the skin of the populace. They will come in a volume of names pressing the linoleumed musk the way the body turns maneuvering over the saltine, the mattress, juxtaposed to a lover, a brusque aroma of coffee brushing away the calm demeanor of the morning, dragging along the weight of its lassitude towards the sprays of fern opening a dense ornate of forget, you, in all places that pulse without recall – an obtuse fish feeling its life in a surge of blue, overtime, finally knowing     what it means to sing and drone only words.
0
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC
Age 23, Listening To Rachmaninoff
Fear of failure had me slogging Constructing these walls of limits around me And I’ve been confined in this prison for decades now Consumed by my own self-made leviathan Seeking for perfection, which smells not in this world Procrastination, had me shackled on the same level Letting time passing by, wasted Assuming what the world may assume if may I fall I may sleep in disgrace with fear, Walking on the prickly path, away from your gashing eyes I may drown in your scornful laughter, a stagnant pond Of discourage for men Whilst ageing not to be young no more We grow naive with poor minds, weary souls Thus age caries no wisdom nor oomph To rectify errs of the past, though far ahead still glows The lit of hope, the spirit to rise from the dust To release my soul free and disrobe the coat of fear To stand tall and soar above the horizon and reach the stars in the sky Though I may never catch the time I let to flew away
0
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 5:05 AM UTC
Fear of failure
i had my feet on theair and was gashing in the new house of first violence my hands were arranged in a patient painful shape that laughed with speed he's a dank specter of courage lilting in this valley falling perspicuously quiet of motion deadened, an apathetic figure stiffly la petite mort well spill sleeping wind on the face of night and go into your head a delicious sprawling valley, at the beckoning of my fists i made it for you, this dream, so dream it
0
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 2:10 PM UTC
i had my feet on theair
A deep gashing hole My heart keeps on breaking I think I’m insane
0
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
My Breaking Heart
I saw you just taking out the trash, but I didn’t want to seem like a creep, so I let things skip a beat and now I’m thinking of your smile and your face but I’m at windows distance and I figure that you want some space or you’d be hitting me up and right now so I stand between the Crater filled lakes of ash and **** scoured landscapes sickened by flame. Fire and breath of choking ash distended disarray Lava lakes and crater making mash the splintering soul coming through, gashing and weighing in on itself. it knows little of the chopped trees gutted for domicile. The fresh roots poke from soil and I sit and think about how I can dig holes around myself and with that somehow take something away, like a tree or a treasonous wish. Pitfalls and kush. Smoking the herb and with wishes of last dishes Misguided missels firing, their exhaust coughing plumes, and strands of future tears, and beams of heat pierce the sky, molding oxygen to any form fit. Distraught I revisit the past. The crashing pain and aftermath, the raking claws, the jaws and teeth, seeping from the soil. Coiled snakes flicking tounges and young souls. old and putrid piles of bones, left alone to shine bright, and tranluscent as night falls, my mind is old and misguided. I’ll cry out in distress I’ll never find the proper time to relax I now know I’m worth nothing I’m suckin in air taking up gas I’m stressed but I’ll find That throwing refuse onto a pile Of burning rubber. the cooling bubbles The trying times of today. Getting out of slumber, waking up to stay alive, gritting teeth I hate myself I am the pain and suffering, and that is why the suffering exists only in myself. without a body such as my own, perhaps suffering could cease.
0
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
Tribulations of Neighborly Romance (It’s Brevity, and the end of a Friendship Held Dear)
I saw you just taking out the trash, but I didn’t want to seem like a creep, so I let things skip a beat and now I’m thinking of your smile and your face but I’m at windows distance and I figure that you want some space or you’d be hitting me up and right now so I stand between the Crater filled lakes of ash and **** scoured landscapes sickened by flame. Fire and breath of choking ash distended disarray Lava lakes and crater making mash the splintering soul coming through, gashing and weighing in on itself. it knows little of the chopped trees gutted for domicile. The fresh roots poke from soil and I sit and think about how I can dig holes around myself and with that somehow take something away, like a tree or a treasonous wish. Pitfalls and kush. Smoking the herb and with wishes of last dishes Misguided missels firing, their exhaust coughing plumes, and strands of future tears, and beams of heat pierce the sky, molding oxygen to any form fit. Distraught I revisit the past. The crashing pain and aftermath, the raking claws, the jaws and teeth, seeping from the soil. Coiled snakes flicking tounges and young souls. old and putrid piles of bones, left alone to shine bright, and tranluscent as night falls, my mind is old and misguided. I’ll cry out in distress I’ll never find the proper time to relax I now know I’m worth nothing I’m suckin in air taking up gas I’m stressed but I’ll find That throwing refuse onto a pile Of burning rubber. the cooling bubbles The trying times of today. Getting out of slumber, waking up to stay alive, gritting teeth I hate myself I am the pain and suffering, and that is why the suffering exists only in myself. without a body such as my own, perhaps suffering could cease.
Continue reading...
35
i can hear a fraternization of doors that loutishly slam repeatedly: just another instance leaping out of reason and lunging in on impulse; wrapped in the heat of leaving, all your words scatter on the floor like white, mangled asphodels. one hairbreadth heave and a cutting glance at space and it seemed to have bled carnations pried open, dissected, obscured, mutilated by birds. bags drop like H-bomb. displaced equanimity somewhere between blame and accurate silence: in an instant i believed that I am that sudden word of reprisal. there’s no getting even, still halves are separately wholes to themselves, intact, further apart, breathing and gashing the air.
0
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 3:42 AM UTC
Mangled Asphodel
after all those years chasing people and hopeless dreams falling in love with boys who weren't meant to be I've convinced myself things aren't always what they seem I see six, you see nine i see black, you see white I've built walls high above the ground And I've let them turn it down and i kept chasing and chasing hoping they'd finally face me embrace me and my flaws but no.. they drew their claws slashing and gashing. with gnashing jaws i shut myself away away from monsters who embody my sanity and I convinced myself maybe i dont need people.
0
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 12:50 AM UTC
breaking walls and closing doors
Darkness suffocates me I sence my death My strength evaporates into nothing I will not exist as I am My eyes have ceased their vision My heart offeres no beat My screams have no voice Just silent echos across the street Angry words attack me, tearing my mind Family discarded, abandoned and void Torment has outlived my joy It gnaws through my bones Gashing wounds seeping with pain No embrace ever came My blackness is hidden No-one can draw me out Breathe freely this destruction of self To gain the bitter end Twigzy 2013
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 9:40 PM UTC
Suicide
*Cool metal Invitingly Teasingly ********* my cheek Serrated edge Gleaming Grinning Eager for an ugly scar Pointed tip Gliding Slicing Gashing open chambers of thought Tender flesh Cleaved Carved Away goes all that once was Warm memoirs Digging Cutting Out all the used-to-bes* Lips Curling Screaming ......
0
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 10:59 PM UTC
my jagged friend
The symphony of the night... Can you hear it? Come dear lets waltz with the rhythm as your heart beats... Face to face we dance round and round, Eye to eye we stare and silence became a sound... I can feel it... The pounding on your chest; As you breathe slowly enjoying this moment... Perhaps it's your last, no one will ever know, What's behind this mask, just a bit more I will show... (Palpitate!Yes let your blood rush through your veins!) I promise your warm blood will not be in vain! I can't restrain myself! Shall I rip her throat now?! Let the gashing begin breaking the vow! The music is at its intense part, The notes it rise and fall like the beat of your heart, Matching the moment as it come to an end! I apologize dear for in my hands you must suffer hell... Sorry love for you must quench my thirst! No point in screaming! And please wipe off your tears! It turns out our love to be a ****** romance. It all ends with a bite, halting our last dance...
0
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
****** Romance
The cool, clear babbling brook of crystal water fed by childhood’s innocence easily reflected the soft light of simple joys Neon lights Blasting sound bites Are you pretty enough Lose weight now Shimmering clothes These toxic wastes of existential effluents Entered my stream of consciousness Until the channels into my self-worth thickened with mud and fed the reeking skunk’s bath of self-loathing Racing thoughts Prevent sentences from forming Instead I chew On my cheek Until it bleeds The metallic taste lingering on my tongue a refreshingly devastating reminder of my continued humanity Each stumbfumbling of words causes my pelvic floor to sink I have no support I’m a mess I’m a puddle Where there’s a bright yellow sign reading, “Caution, Floor Wet” There’s me There’s the puddle There’s the mess You approach my soul You ignore the sign Your kindness mops up the puddle Your respect cauterizes the gashing cut of self hatred Where there was once a puddle, there’s an egg There’s life The sharp jowls of your fierce devotion act as ****** to my self esteem Holding it up through the turbulence of biting thoughts Before the everythingphobic Now the noneedforanyphobics Your hand embraces my face as the softness of your lips sinks sweetly into my forehead A weight drops What falls away are the snake skins tattooed in scars unveiling the porcelain glow of new beginnings.
0
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 12:43 AM UTC
Molting
there is a small fire, a flickering light, akin to a firefly lost in the cold mists of night, shining bright where my joy should be. there is a deep well, a profound darkness, akin to a cavern flooded with frigid dark waves echoing eternally to the sound of loneliness. there is a lackluster wreckage, a broken trireme, akin to a kingly one that sailed out of Ithaca, bleeding memories through a gashing wound. there is a rhyme, a shattered syllable, akin to a muffled shout that reverberated throughout those splintered blinks of a forlorn childhood...
0
Sep 24, 2024
Sep 24, 2024 at 4:28 AM UTC
a private odyssey