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Saturn rises through a glass house—
Faces assemble and dance with hands of iron.
Their lips do the radical task of thinking;
A whole mouth speaks and hears itself alone.

Some of them smoke their holy *****.
Some of them spin; others sway in a trance of amorality
And bewilderment induced by substance.
All the disquieting pleasure of company;
I flattened out on the floor like an offering.

Saturn doesn't crave me,
I have no party spirit to be possessed and learned.
Saturn doesn't desire me—
Why does he rain wine into my hands?
Why does Saturn **** in my hands?

My palms are instigators; my fingers are enablers.
My liver is poisoned—
I'm drunk, and I don't recognize these faces.
Purcy Flaherty Jan 2018
I spend all my hours crying and crouching in dark despair, consumed by self pity; neither living nor dead, my mind poisoned by grief, ruined, undone, bitter and broken; my love wrenched from me.
My dream smashed into a billion pieces.
I'm finally ready to embrace the black dog with all its teeth and fury, fearless, numb, exhausted, done.
I'll gladly drink down any poison, to end this state of loss, to open my flesh, to let out my blood with glass or steel and to let the cold waters draw me down into the ocean with pockets full of stones, anything to stop this intolerable feeling!
I am nothing but empty!
I’m sick and tired and at the end!

I’m content that but a few will remember, until I'm completely forgotten.
Confused, broken down and in a dark, dark desperate place!
Eryck May 2018
Mammy say don't fear the boll-weevil,
Just a bug, don't worry bout him.
But Pappy say the little devil evil,
so he believe in the cotton gin.

This Texas guy say he was an angel,
I followed lock-step, believed what he said.
Didn't seem to have any sharp angles,
he drank some poisoned koolaid now he dead.

Searched at end of rainbow for *** of gold
me be rich *****, no mo po *****.
Leprechaun belief, I been told,
While head in sky searching, fell in trench.

Politician and preacher keep saying,
I hear their voice noise grind and grind,
vote for me girl and keep praying,
but in the end it make no nevermind.

I tink at de end of the day I just believe in me.
Justin Apr 2014
I was born so warm and gentle,
Into this place so cruel,
I thought that I could change the world,
The world thought me a fool.

I wandered like so many do,
The path a young man takes.
A thousand apples left to bite,
Amid a sea of snakes.

They spoke to me with words like honey,
Fattened me with lies.
We were all just born to sin they said,
We were all just bred to die.

The path I walked had made me weary,
So amongst the snakes I laid,
And amongst the snakes my morals rotted,
In the prison that we made.

I tried so hard to free myself,
Against the shackles cast,
But when the serpents poisoned me,
They set me free at last.

I've grown up so cold and empty,
With mistakes that I must own.
Once my heart was soft and gentle
Now my heart is bone.
Feel free to comment on anything that you think could be better. I'm here for feedback.
Dess Ander May 2018
I fell hard, head first, in love
Damaged my brain and couldn’t recover my mind
Whole but in pieces and believing you could save me
But your every truth was a lie
Whispering romantic **** convincingly like the serpent
And just like her I took a bite and didn’t want to let go
I let myself be poisoned.
Blissful Nobody Jul 2014
You loved me so,
to numb my pain,
You served them more.
To end my miseries,
My happiness you abhorred.

You loved me so,
To cure my ailment,
You poisoned my soul.
To vent out my heart,
You closed all doors.

You loved me so,
To quench my thirst,
You offered me sulfur.
A desire to experience heaven,
Hell was raised above.

You loved me so,
Answers when granted,
Were forms of silence.
Breath when needed ,
Vacuum you granted.

You loved me so,
Of wine I dreamt,
Found blood and gore.
Expected images of life,
Death images you swore.
mariamme Jul 2018
1
step into my soul, but
don't tread on my sanctity.
gaze at the formations of
mi miedo y fantasía
like spires on a church tower
calling the faithful to pray.
i come crawling, patético
to set myself back in my bonds
& beg again for banality
to replace the poisoned truth
of who i know myself to be.
"otherness". something even i in all my privileged existence contend with and fail to conquer.

i am tired of cowering in my safe spaces (they've been unsafe for months anyways). this is who i am.
September Roses Sep 2019
Lightning playful through a poisoned bloodstream,
Veins on torturous, burning fire.
Whispers through my home, hauntings of the faux trauma and unresolved crucifix standing ready to bear.
Left unfulfilled by the crushing unrefusable statement of self sabotage.
The flaming star of the avatar, the nomadic extreme of the eternal hellscape that resides in my hunted stomach.
The predator and the prey, predetermined and praying.
Just another eternity until the monsoon departs, the season ended. From there the calm waves will carry me to shore.
The dark restful, kiln, I am your dough, as I am your clay, a grateful panettone.
Mold me, endow me the drug, the decree, the great recipe of relinquishment.
No Elysium, I denounce Gehenna,
I crave nothing but the sweet, serene, comatose clemency of unending hibernation.
Cold blooded sunbathing in the radiant rays of the great bird's wings.
The boiling embrace of his feathered fire.
The brutal, unrelenting, chaotic, climactic, adrenalitic pull into the hot murky depths.
Scald me, lash me, revive me in death.
For I can wait no longer.
Living in fear of the Reaper is worse than The Harvest its self.
So come unto me my lord, my peace,
And engulf me in the ******* rest of departure.
Pretty hot. Haha get it .a ha ha
JB Feb 2019
In an attempt to scratch the itch under my skin
caused by a hundred breathing irritants
I take a blade and when they ask

Oh this? It's just a scratch

In order to filter the thoughts in my head
I crack it open with a can opener

In trying to find the answer
And filter this poisoned blood

I poisoned my self with terminal self destruction

In an attempt to filter the blood contaminated with wrongful thoughts
I bleed from my irritated layers
As if the air will give a transfusion to heal this ****** up life
L Seagull Feb 2019
Drop the stream through this sieve into the bottle
Where it shouldn’t belong you wish to
Drink up the poisoned milk in infinitesimal gulps
Of deathly satisfaction only because
The glass shards under your feet pretended
To be the grass and you believed as much as
That what felt like downfall was anything resembling warmth
Sneaking snapshots of neglect for nothing else
Is allowed to who you know yourself to be
And nothing else is a possibility for the
Identity was outlined in ink and blood and
Disappointment and disappointed you are
As a way to make the world feel familiar
At least there is one listener to make one feel at home
While the rest hold on to their promises
While keeping their ears open and their feet in the destined direction
And you are wasting away the precious moments
To drag yourself through the dessert of
Familiar bitterness
To be seen through the prism of your
Poisoned safety blanket
Only as illegitimate
Worthless poem really. A hundred bucks works better than mirrors
em Oct 2016
Hello Monster,
I don’t know what you look like here.
But I can feel you coming back.
I knew you lived in his hands
Because it hurt
Whenever he put them on my hips
You sharpened my inhales
and they cut my heart on their way
to my lungs.
I knew how you poisoned my name
when they came out of her lips
because it sounded
like someone who looks better
with cut wrists.
she was broken anyway.
I grew to know you quite well.
You let go of my throat
and seemed to hold my hand
We were friends you
and I.
Maybe all it took was
a change of scenery.
My hair grew longer
and so did your claws.
And now I can’t see you until
I’m already bleeding.
I didn’t know how his eyes
on me, would make me
want to be skinny.
Until you were cutting away
all the parts around the edges
that had grown soft since
we stopped fighting.
Bony is beautiful
you whispered.
I didn’t know
you were in her back
until you showed me
how it bends when
it turns away from me.
I didn’t know you were in my knees
that ache now as I chase
and crave someone's lips
on me in the dark.
Because maybe someone will
want me
when they can’t see me.
When they can’t see us.
You’re back inside of me.
I know you are.
And it scares me.
Because I’m starting to see you again.
You look just like me.

Sincerely,
Emma
it's been awhile
Danny Wolf Feb 2017
Here lies all the pieces of my existence
stolen from ignorance,
taken from my hands without question.
Seldom did I even notice I was being depleted.
My hands left to sieves,
even what I wanted to hold onto slipped through.
I created my new existence from the ground up,
debris collected,
what fell through the sieve I swept into bones and skin.
I am made intricate like spider webs,
like little fingers ripping heads -
when did I lose my ability to discern the truth?
I made it hard to find myself.
A couple times swallowed poison I thought was medicine-
takes a while to extract from the bloodstream.
Followed me sometimes into the depths of my dreams,
shape shifting into snakes
and endless seas.
Woke up those nights drowning
in the depths of my own fear infused lies.
I learned to weave quite intricately,
presenting beauty that is a trap for death.
Learned to live without mind on my shoulders,
ripped up my own head
and plucked out each limb.
Funny, though,
how weaving intricate webs taught me
to put myself back together again-
weaving beauty into the veins,
trapping poisoned blood
and killing the pain.
Draw out the demons,
and only truth will remain.
Nassif Younes Mar 2016
Another day and up goes
Another indoor ski *****
Another indoor hunting range
And another underwater golf club
All built on the backs of Blistered Men
In the blistering sun
Who hydrate on warm water by day
And wash in ***** water by night
As towers cut holes in the sky
Through which the heavens rain down
Their radioactive rays.

At dusk, the Imam ****
Who wears on all ten fingers
Rings bearing ten different precious stones
Waves his winking hand
At the ******* Cop
Who smiles back showing his teeth
Cunningly freckled with golden flakes
While a voice from the nearest mosque hangs over them
And says something
About morality.

In the middle of the desert
In the highest room
Of the tallest hotel
Sits The Perfumed Prince
Enjoying his favourite meal -
Lobster with pieces of fillet steak
Clutched in the pincers
And both eyes gouged out
And the sockets fitted with white truffles.
The waiter holds his breath before returning with the bill
And the Prince tips one of The Blistered Men
With a rare shellfish
Which he does not know how to eat
Without getting poisoned.
After his meal, The Perfumed Prince
Relieves himself in a solid gold toilet
Which makes his ***** look like fresh water
Whilst his pet falcon innocently crunches the carcass of a baby rat
In the other room.

On New Year's Eve
As the baking sun had set
And sweated out into a stinking humid haze
The sixty-three storey Downtown hotel caught ablaze
Because - reports say -
The owner tried to squeeze into it
A sixth star.
The Imam **** of Many Rings
Suggested postponing the scheduled firework display next door
And charging people to watch the fire.
The Gold-Flaked ******* Cop
Argued this was impractical
And insisted the show go on
As it would omit the sound of people screaming
Something about priorities.

The fire was contained
And the firework show a success.
The Perfumed Prince flew in the next day
And resolved that the burning hotel was structurally flawed
And should have been
Bigger.
"If we're going to have an inferno,"
He said,
"It had better be the best inferno this world has ever seen."
And so he set The Blistered Men to work
On wobbly scaffolding
In the blistering sun.

The women have been blocked out of this story
Much like they are in the streets

But in other news
Somebody, somewhere
Has just resolved
To eat less red meat.
Matt Shaw May 2017
This life is a poisoned glory.
Gloried and poised, it's only a temporary
Illusory bulwark of an elusive heaven.

Darling, I have worn sores into this Temple
I can't plead innocence
For all the times I pulled the purple veils
Over my better judgment.

I have sold goods to the devil
And worse, I have tried to excuse myself.

Baby, please don't hate me.

Don't pull away so harsh when I try to kiss you
I'm not that ugly. Baby, you told me.

You said it would all be okay.
Look, I've stayed strong for us,
I've kept steady believing in the light,
And we'll melt softly into death.
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