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Curt A Rivard Sr Apr 2013
Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages
Step right up; his dying time is now near
all his pain, all his screams, do you want to hear?
Welcome... I bid you welcome...
Welcome to my three ring ****** state of mind
inside my evil twisted thoughts you'll see I'm only a one of a kind.
There is no rush that is greater now than the shaking of a corpse's hand, telling them my name and there not getting off my table till I'm done after their hourglass had ran out of sand.
For all my life I was rocked to sleep in the cradle of a nightmare.
Tested and taunted all along the way I told you all before in my chest my heart does not stay to tell my works are original, better look for the linen paper at your funeral.
For I blended embalming fluid and powder in my dipping pens ink well and every morning I unscrew it's cap and take a deep smell, burning vapors now fill my eyes as they begin to weep rolling down my face you'll be able to tell like black magic voodoo I am under my own sick powerful spell.
Tearing your name out of the book of life I doused you with a bucket full of gasoline and told you to now run faster than the gingerbread man as I'm chasing you with a loaded flair gun. Now you’re the burned page and you can never be found.
It was a rainy night after when I put you under the sinking muddy ground so happy now that your gone my head no longer has to hurt with murdering voices in my skull that pound.
Watch me now as I show you all how it is really done
performing for you all a living embalming nightmare.
Turning up the pressure and setting the dials till a pressure pulsating flow
He can’t escape, my number one son has him tied up with strips from his prison sheet and now there shouting code blue over the intercom cause my arson freak is laughing, as he's making a mummy out of you.
Trapped in your cell he holds the key and now you have nowhere to go.
Watch me now pump his neck with liquid silver mercury
till it seeps out his eye sockets and he now no longer sees. Tickling your sponge like the Egyptians did I'm now breaking the bone and then packing your nose with cotton ***** soaked with super glue. How easy it was to do and how beautiful it felt wanting it to trickel out your ears.
Placing my nose close for the death smell it was there for I had smelt. Rigid rigor slowly setting in I can tell, thank you my old friend for the way you had felt.
Now I have to do a reverse fill because your body is holding no pressure, your veins did not swell, O' my God, it's not looking well.
Brain matters now pouring out your nostrils ever so fast and is streaking down your upper lip.
Why me I can see is on your face the answer is coming soon to you and to all your loved ones I will tell.
Shaking my hands clean and collecting it all in a jar, seven layers thick I love playing with all your skin slip :)
Feelings can’t compare, this is the best, now isn’t this fun?
The party isn’t over yet for I have only just begun.
He as a glock three eighty not only did he dress but he also shot it like an old lady. O' don't worry there's always another day for acting like a rat, how about an attack with a baseball bat?
  When I am done for you all today
I'll prove to you that I am bullet and shatter proof cause,
I’m then going to stuff that little ballerina inside it's very own special music box
Peeking and peering through the caskets keyhole
I can see he’s scratching and tearing at the coffins lid
Believing rumors that you have heard, come on for real, are you a kid?
Whispering to you a sweet death lullaby its ok you now can start to cry.
It’s too bad now I gave you a chance, you can beg, you can plead but I now must dip my pen and write this poem with your blood as your body now begins to bleed.
Tears won’t work no matter how hard you try
this is what you get for believing someone’s lie
Members of the audience I thank you all and you all are very welcome
look at him now just like then it was so funny looking inside and seeing no brain. look he's crying again like a baby full of trauma and getting ready to go insane trust I know, you all will never forget my name!
I must now wash away all the evidence and go fetch for you a first son for I am running madder than the craziest plague in the Bible.
You can use all the ****** lambs’ blood you can find to paint a cross over your doorway but that won't stop my sickness because I cannot stop now for this is too much fun.
Hey what can I say...
But I always do say...
Welcome to the show!

(SirCARSr 4-30-13)
Georgia Gordon Jul 2015
Close you eyes

Shut out the light

Let the darkness take over your mind

Breath it in

Don't hide

Let it trickel like a stream and turn into a waterfall

Feel the depths of yourself

The place you had not felt before

Let it fill your every void

Let it hide your every pain

Until only nothingness remains

Allow everything you fight everyday to shrivel up and fall away
Take it to the end of your soul and bring it back again

And when it seems that everything is truely lost
Open your eyes and be blinded by the light

Let it chase the darkness away and with it all the sadness and the pain

You will find out of the darkness come the brightest light
If you first allow yourself to face the fear of the the unknown
And trust yourself to guide you back to what you where before

The life you lost was never gone
But buried deep within you all along

Let the darkness carry all your days of fear away
Allow your love of life to start again
And know
Out of Darkness Comes The Brightest Light.
Bellie-boo Nov 2013
Flawless emotins strung,
By line they flow,
The  space and gaps,
the criss and cross,
The melodies that intertwine us.

Charted lines that hold us together,
bound by a signeture,
yet the key dose not hold firm.

Apologies trickel off your tounge,
Affetuoso they fill me,
Trpilets spill over cause you know they will  get me,
Sorry con calore,
Sorry is the Da capo of our life.

ll:Repeat:ll we start again,
With the same clashiny cords they tear us apart,
Con Fuoco,
Our anger no longer restraned by margines,
They run rampant without rhyme across an unstaffed page.

Staccatoed our notes became,
that one flowed effortesly between us is now rigid and cold,
Divisi we became two beings,
no longer one.


Somehow I cannot stop wishing to play for you,
As you lull me I forget the world,
Tremolo rattels my core,
Your music courses through me,
Carving the melody,
I subciunsously create its counter melody.

A Tempo takes over our lifes,
as we fall into our normal lovey ways,
all forgetten,
Nothing left to say except,
I love you
Fine
Illya Oz May 2018
How can you even start to express to someone that you want to watch yourself bleed...

That you want to rip open your own skin and feel the warmth trickel down you body.
Watching it seap out of you and slide across your skin.

How do you explain that this is a craving stronger then you could ever describe and ever so hard to resist.
That this red liquid is able to quench your metaphorical thirst for emotional relief.

How can you explain that that it helps...
That in some twisted way the pain makes everything hurt less.

How do you explain to them that it scares the living hell out of you,
That this is something you can do to yourself,
That this is something you want to do to youself.
The knowing that even after so many years you still crave it,
And you don't think you will ever stop craving it.

How can you explain to them that you don't want them to think you're crazy.
That it just hurts too much for you to bare.
That you are trying to bare it but the pain you feel inside is too much.

That the fact that you can't see this pain scares you,
that others can't see your pain scares you,
That you don't even understand this pain scares you.
And maybe this is why you crave watching yourself bleed.

It's a pain you can see,
A pain that others can see,
A pain you can understand,
But now that you see the pain you understand that you don't want others to see it.
Because how could you even beguin to explain.


How could I ever beguin to expain to you that I want to watch myself bleed...
I heard a line in a slam poem recently about someone with an eating disorder which really resonated with me. "I consider myself recoverd but still talk about my eating disorder in present tense."
I am 2 years 'recoverd' from self-harm, yet many days I still battle with the 'addiction'. Everyday is a question of 'Will today be the day I relaps', 'Will I be strong enought to fight it today.' Yet I don't talk about it. Most people just don't understand and I don't know how to explain it. I don't want their sympathy, the way they look at you like if they say something your going to shatter like glass. I don't think I will ever truly recover from my self-harm, it will stay with my for as long as my scars do, a lifetime.

— The End —