"wretching" poems
petals.
petals everywhere.
flower petals.
they flood my stomach, overfill into my throat, and spill out of my mouth.
i wretch.
i heave.
i grip the skin on my legs for purchase.
the petals just don't stop.
petals.
petals everywhere.
in the morning, when i first wake up, petals.
in the evening, when i'm settling in and feeling lonely, petals.
at night, when i'm alone in the dark with my thoughts, petals.
more wretching and heaving.
the petals just won't stop.
petals.
petals everywhere.
when i see your face, petals fly out of my mouth.
out of my mouth and onto the cold, unforgiving concrete.
my knees buckle.
you whisper in a soft voice that could lull me into a blissful slumber.
"are you alright?"
i wretch.
i heave.
why won't these petals go away?
petals.
petals everywhere.
my stomach has become a garden.
has become your garden.
your smile blooms inside of me.
your voice blossoms like a morning glory.
i could get the surgery.
i could get it and forget about you.
about the wretching.
about the heaving.
the petals could go away.
slicing.
dicing.
dissecting.
petals.
petals nowhere.
petals no longer litter the ground i walk.
the bed i sleep in.
the clothes that itch my dry skin.
the sight of your face is now a reminder to me.
a reminder that you are a person.
a person who never appreciated gardening in the first place.
no more wretching.
no more heaving.
no more petals.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 3:19 AM UTC
I see it in your eyes.
Your fear.
A fear of the unknown.
A fear of taking risks.
A lack of success.
A lack of effort.
A lack of motivation.
A lack of going for your dreams.
A frustration.
The dry threats.
"I'm gonna come down there and kick your *** you say.
Like dry heaves.
It's wretching.
The nectar of youth slithering away.
Your trying to grasp, clamp so tight.
You are lost.
Taking your frustrations out on others.
"You are such a **** up," you snap.
You've given up on yourself.
You're drowning.
I love you. But I can't help you.
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
this is a poem about happiness.
this is also a poem about how great life is, see? here's a metaphor
comparing nature to the faultless
form of a pedastalized lover,
here's a description of the
effect of changes in air pressure
and localized temperature
fluctuations
on physical matter in a given area.
here's a bland truism that
anybody can relate to.
here's a couple rhyming stanzas
about the ethereal shifting of
connecting threads which
cause all life to dance upon
the cosmic stage like food poisoned marionettes.
here's an ode to the wrinkles of
my ******** and
the bits of fuzz that occasionally
find their home in my *****
here's a sonette to the drop outs
doing better than me
here's a dirge for the businessman
that hangs himself
and a jubilee for his widow
who earns nothing off his death
because he left his entire estate
to his catamite.
I'm writing a symphony in color,
notes of fermenting wood
dogshit and coffin dust.
the violas swoop and drone
the piccolos trill fast enough
to excise your gastrointestinal system
the barotone sax wheezes
and the timpani drum rumbles
(the flutes sit motionless because
**** flutes)
the pianists fingers are bleeding
hes banging with stumps now
his face contorted in ecstatic glee
as if the face of god has parted
the clouds just to scrape his gums
clean with his dietous ****
and lo faint is the whisper
which climbs and slithers
between the
false,
bash upon life with both hands.
here is life here is death
let me show your life
let me breathe your wretching
like squandered
like roots in the soil,
paint your everlasting cave drawing
in the face of your kitchen
and dance around a fire
let the embers lick your heels
til pagan viciousness overtakes
your quivering form.
gasp it in
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC
a bowl of black beans / your mother sitting on the other side of the kitchen / this liquidation of self / you would be something / anything / anyone / if it could make you safe / the black beans taste like nothing now / you aren’t crying but you’re **** near it / your mother makes a honey sweet remark / won’t you stay alive / and / eat your beans then we’ll leave / and you don’t have an answer but you listen / you are pleading with the voices to let you eat the beans and make them taste less like bleach / your mother bleached your hair when you were fourteen and you bleached your skin at sixteen / you drank that same bleach from that same bottle three days after your sixteenth birthday/ but this is a bowl of beans and it tastes like that time / smells like that time / your throat coughing up blood and your body wretching to *****
a bowl of black beans / your mother takes that bowl and washes it out in the sink / you still have that hoarse voice from imagining it tastes like bleach / you still have that ***** wretch instinct because of how much your throat stings / then mother says; you’ll stay with them for some time / as if that makes anything better / a drive into the emptiness of a psychiatric hospital / a place they’d sent you when you were ten because you were so angry and so depressed / you break when the blue tiles turn to ocean and you drown / you break when the red tiles turn to fire and burn your toes / you are hungry again / but you know everything you eat will taste like bleach.
you can’t sleep because the bleach is still on your tongue / you think of that bowl of black beans / your mother sitting on the other side of the kitchen / maybe you’d see her smile again / maybe you’d be broken and be able to exist comfortably / don’t you want to survive to see that?
you answer / no / i’d rather die than be patronized.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
Feel the fire on your flesh, burning, transforming your entirety
Keeping all your secrets, forever hidden from the ones that you choose to deceive.
And if you feel that he is getting too close, run away…. Far away..
Never be too far away from home, to truly leave.
There in the distance, there is a siren beckoning for you.
She has her hands out to embrace you, only to crush you.
Her velvet dress is plunging down, so deep you can see inside her.
But, it’s never enough to make her want you as much as you want her..
Listening to the folk music in the distance …
I can feel the agony coming on to me again..
Could it be real “?? Could it be my fault, again.?
Seeking revenge through the strangest of ways.
The rocks are so real, that the sailors think they are seeing a mirage
But in reality, they think they will truly live past this day
Gorging upon the flesh of the past in the true spirit of the future
Bent, solemn, tragic, metamorphisis of the human character.
Dig deeper, into the humanity that is no more.
Lifting my eyes to the stained, blackness of their souls
Freedom beckoning from a distance for miles
Sativa and honey dripping from the demons, black. toothless grins
As I ***** my empty stomach and wretching, green nothingness, human bile.
So go upon your merry way and sing while you die
Feel the ******* anger and bitterness eating your insides.
So then, you walk the plank, knowing your end is near
Never giving in to the blanket of fear.
Tell tale signs of forgiveness, that is rarely real.
Stop the ******** you don’t know how to feel.
You lost your soul a long time ago, gave it up for a bag
Now your eternity is forever evil and you’ve lost your true life’s zeal
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 1:36 PM UTC
I believe happiness
Settles some where
At the bottom of a
bottle of gold
I scramble to the cabinet Ashamed
this sobriety is being Put in a
clear cup and drowned With
poison that turns your
Liver holy like the
church women That
dress in white kidneys destroyed
If I could pour it down
Only if it was rain
I wouldn't mind letting
Every drop hit the ground
try extra hard to step
Over every puddle instead
Of collecting drops on my
Sponge tongue tonight
I swallow bitterness dreams
To big to fit down my throat
This time so I spit up
Explosions send waves through
Out a bottle attached body
Laying on the side that's not
So bruised with signs I've
Been laying here next
To the white anchor
Holding tight Struggling
To lift myself to face
The bowl ill wake up to
The focus never in my Eyes
One roll back will be it
As I Try wretching for my
Soul Come out and show
What swimming in
***** and liquor
Does to the innocent
Mouthed
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 12:21 AM UTC
He knows it is poison, yet indulges.
It's the one way he's learned to live through it.
And so stays dry. It's sobering.
For months and months and months,
It's a life he enjoys.
Then comes the itch, so the plan is engaged.
Leave and become a stranger,
A pub-fly in Ireland.
And when he returns, Day One is at hand.
The cleansing is on.
For three days he digs, buries himself
In the dark.
Wretching and heaving til bruised.
Step by step by step...
A red face lights the sink basin,
Water, not tears fill his eyes.
By eight tonight Day Two begins.
But that's still hours away.
Back to the sink.
When Day Three dawns,
He rises and walks out.
Step by step by step...
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 10:57 AM UTC
Before I knew you
I thought you’d changed, too
Thank you, you proved me wrong
We made plans, they ended
It was good we wanted
You said you should be moving on
Without any warning
I woke that morning
When you were gone
Left alone, my plans remain the same:
I’m here to do good, it’s not my choice
The cards were dealt, I’ll play my hand—
I’m fine this is no sacrifice
But since I’ve been here
My problem seems clear—
A sickness metronomed
The volunteer’s life
Is filled with small fights
But my disease has blown
Into war with *****
An acid stomach
And no connection home
I see it, believe it, that decency persists
This place is not what it is, but what we’ve made it
We’ve learned to give and take the bad and good
But to see ourselves outside ourselves is how we’ll change it
A place with palm trees
Dead farms and disease
In my students
I saw a pain that
They didn’t know yet
Would break them as they grew
And these ignored ones
These poorly born ones
They had no need for hope
Yet before I knew them
They gave me more than
They took to feed their own
I thought I knew what they could show
That good escapes all circumstance
But though I help them, I cannot love them
My strength’s abandoned romance
And still I’m wretching
My sickness spreading
It’s in my gut
I see your face in
The ripened rice which
They have begun to cut
In the evenings
I walk what once were green fields
Now dirt-blonde husks
That stab the air
The color of your hair
My stomach churns
Hope is useless
And I’ve abused it
I think I’ll leave it on its own
But I keep working
The sickness lurking
Well, that’s how hardship’s earned
Apr 26, 2011
Apr 26, 2011 at 1:54 AM UTC
her dress was blue gauze
because there wasn't much there,
for hair, or makeup
after her breakup, she went to the mall and used
yes uses, the outdoor steps for a changeroom, putting on her polka dot pjamas, once that
could be used, for the game of twister.
Poor sister.
She took it all off in the downpour,
she chose not shower, the water was too cold and refreshing,
make her catch her breath while wretching,
no one walking by found her fetching,
they all turned away as they walked by,
so did my wife and I but she checked
and confirmed, the stairs were her change room, she was putting on dry clothes
she had three overstuffed bags, her feet were cold and wet, her socks were wet,
we did not see any shoes,
sadly her angry looks at
the invisible people she
muttered too
uttered curses loudly
kept anyone wanting
to help far away, as far away as Oz,
whoever wanted to be a bridge for her troubled water,
and all she needed and all she wanted was a dry place
to lay herself down,
sail on, silver girl
sail on by,
there will be serious prayers for you tonight, because God does not
make life trivial, we do,
take your bags, He will cover you with wings
and your baggage, in your hands, He is sufficient, to provide for your needs
is all that you own in those purses and bags, but you are not alone,
even if you have been given up for lonely.
Will someone be sent to help her?
©DWE012014
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
I cut,
Each time the blade wretching deeper into my wrist,
Blood oozing out of my skin,
Like waves in the night, full of wist.
A rush of adrenalin surging through my veins,
As I cut deeper and deeper,
I can no longer take control of the reins,
I can no longer take control of my actions.
I am in a daze,
No longer in connection with anything,
Like I'm all alone in this big maze,
Cut off from the world.
But I wasn't like this 6 years ago,
I was a good little kid,
Playing with lease and snow.
Life was so simple,
And now I can see,
How much I've changed, for the worse,
And exactly what impact you've had on me.
When you left everything went sour,
As you craved to live,
And seek more power.
No father in my life,
Has led me up a tree,
And now leading me to this knife,
Ever so painfully.
Now I lay here,
Slowly fading away,
Not even a friend near.
Pain subsiding,
Fear demolishing all hope,
Of ever being me.
Gliding,
Gliding away as if I had wings,
Pain gone, I feel fresh,
New almost,
I can see my body lying in a tangled mesh.
As I rise upwards,
Finally free,
Now no one can make an impact on me...
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 1:10 AM UTC
By every stitch awkwardly placed.
Does there linger a sting.
A colorless.
Vastness.
Of nothing.
A space.
Larger than any ravine.
Boundless.
Where even the brightest smile.
Drowned.
It was here.
In this same collection of wavering resolve.
A new smile was born.
Of lust.
And piercing wales.
One that fit ever so perfectly.
Tears and pain cascade through.
Yet it remained.
Begging.
Wretching.
Playing with this notion of spite.
And torture.
The blade driven by ones own hand.
Is the very one that knows this darkness all to well.
Hiltless.
Does it dive deeper.
And the black ooze finds a home.
In the abyss beyond.
For this.
Is the viciousness desired.
A circle of ridicule.
And tumble end over end.
Smile intact.
Mind.
Shambles..
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 3:26 AM UTC
I am tired of the tears when I should be over you
Dealing with the things you said and tasks you didn't do
And you owe me for the millions of tears you made me cry
But you in all your heartlessness will keep me where I lie
I am sick of the touch that whispered sweeter lies to me
Bu I can't say it's all your fault since I chose to fall so eagerly
I would say some wise thing of love and loss but this, dear, was not love at all
And oh how I despise myself for wanting to answer when you call
I am weary of the faults which you showed my naked eyes
The worthlessness you showed to someone who once shared your bluest skies
Do you fail to see the venom in the lips with which you kiss my skin
The deceit needed for you to find your temporary win
I will dread any love that comes to me this day forth
Wondering and questioning the heavens of my worth
Wretching instead of reaching for the silver lining of the clouds
Knowing the loser's price when they sets their wages down
Now I know the warnings, the hints, the cautions my mind gave
The reluctance in my mind that inevitably would have saved
The mirror that I chose not to look in simply out of stubbornness
And all the issues that we both had which I chose not to address
And I am tired of the tears when I should be over you
The love that will come once again every time you're passing through
The aching for the nicotine-like feeling that only you can quench
And the tissues scattered on the floor with which my tears do drench
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
Outside, it's cold as ice
But I can feel the blistering heat around my neck.
The burning grip, I can't escape
leaving me mutilated as I cease to breathe
These are the hands of a murderer
inhuman and inanimate
I thrash through the embers
in attempt to escape
the vicegrip that leaves me bleeding,
gasping,
burning amongst the flames
I am a brutalized, bleeding corpse.
Pain and indifference drips onto the floor
with every worthless step that I take
The demons have stabbed me repeatedly
I've lost every drop of humanity I had
Everything I've ever loved has been destroyed
This is not what was meant to be
It's me and my demons, and I've just lost it
Someone's going down, and it's not me
Today I will tear the hands of my demons from my brutalized, mutilated face
I will pull the devil's crushing deathgrip
from my lifeless corpse.
I shall watch the blood pour from his body,
Listen to his bones begin to shatter,
and the screeching sound of his
inhuman, brutal wretching
like the squeals of a pig.
I'll set him ablaze and watch him burn.
The devil's vice-grip hands couldn't hold me down.
I'm ready to start my mission.
I'll tie my demons to a tree
and do unto them what they've done to me
I'll tighten these chains around their neck,
Just like they tried to do to me.
I'll watch them suffer, struggle to breathe
Then I'll tighten these chains some more.
and when they think they've reached the end
I'll stab them with knives a hundred times.
Soak them in gasoline, light the match
I'll watch the flesh fall off their burning bodies.
And I'll do it with a smile on my face.
This job will not be done
until each and every one is wholly
unrecognizable,
Skulls shattered into a million pieces,
Bodies thrashed, cut up and burned
They thought they were certainly
stronger than me.
But they would soon meet their demise.
I put a bullet in all their heads
and they all hit the ground, dead.
They should have listened to what I said.
Should have ****** with someone else instead.
I put bullets in all their heads.
Now they're all ******* dead.
Aug 30, 2019
Aug 30, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC
I talk a big talk when you're around.
Yes.
Around you I act so happy -
and part of that is true, because it's you and you're around.
But I talk a big talk.
I can't help it.
Something inside me turns on that has to be strong
When on the inside things are twisting,
so painfully wretching.
Inside is this monster of jealousy,
when you're around.
It captures me.
and trust becomes untrustworthy
when you're around (her).
But when you're around, something in me breathes
that deep breath of what it used to be.
When you're around it's hard to see you leave.
And I can't look you in the eye,
when mine betray me.
All the strength that I had mustered
will melt away like nothing,
and you'll see what's underneath:
You'll see I am not free -
and the longing that entangles me
when you're around.
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 12:11 AM UTC
As a child I thought they stole
The true essence of my soul
I walked without innocence
Listening in vain for my penance
Searching I journeyed to and fro
To realize I had no great place to go
I wandered through my emotions
Which sent my life in locomotion
Not being quite able to see
The beauty that was within me
People would tell me I was a gift
My mind blocking it I would go stiff
Surley if they could see the past
The love for me would never last
Not once did I see my own light
I was way too caught up in my own fight
One wretching hurt sent me stopping
I finally seen all my own mocking
Sick and depressed my heart was crushed
I wanted dearly to become a drunken lush
I was tired of carrying this extra person
A deep look inside sent me cursing
Nobody on this earth can take away
The God soul given to me that day
Still as innocent as freshly first birthed
When I crossed this threshold to earth
I did allow my emotions to take it all on
When it was their burden for the wrongs
Being grateful not resentful towards them
I finally saw I was a beautiful shinning gem
Daily I learn this human suit I am to wear
Has no bearing on the soul I have to bare
With my angels we keep it locked and stored
I see the reflections now on my own accord
What the world thinks of me or this poem
It has no bearing on how I am going home
The voice whispers innocence within my mind
Beauty and grace is my angel soul intertwined
Channeling spirits from above where I belong
Speaking this truth I will forever stand strong
This battle of emotions never happening again
For now I see I am a true princess within
Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 6:43 PM UTC
I guess I just want something deep,
I no longer want some flimsy fantasy
Spending my time dreaming of what could be
I want to take my time to get to know
Every shining quality like the stars of my beau
It would be just the two of us
Wrapped within the warmth of summer's arms
Forever in a cocoon
Feeling safe, and we would even dare to dream
that we would continue on forever unharmed
Protected in the amniotic sac of our love
Simultaneously grounding us
And shooting us up into the stars
Something so deep,
Tethering me to sanity
And ungrounding me to possibility
Weaving within my very veins the certainty of my lover's loyalty
And at the same time reveling within romantic spontaneity
Oh, how sweet and uncalculated this fine and complex dance of living can be
Spinning in rehearsed circles and always coming back to the heart of all the things that could be and ever will be
And yet my life is a mere breeze
On a desert plain
Blowing away the sands of both my happiness and pain
And what else could I say,
Except it's been a beautiful, heart wretching, eye opening, wisdom gaining, heart expanding ride?
And when I find this love of mine,
Our love will defy the very concept of time
We will have love that is so deep
That it will continue on into eternity.
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 2:41 AM UTC
One hundred and five days
wasted.
Down the drain
along with the crimson and
I tried.
Pushed to the limit, I
Could not control
that which my skin
begged for.
Crawling like a thousand
ants. Screaming, wretching,
Pleading. Give me
More.
And I gave in, weak in my
Pain. I could not control,
Myself, my mind, my
Hands.
They say relapse,
Is necessary in recovery but
I say it's
Failure.
Failure and weakness,
Reminding me that I cannot
Overcome the
Monsters.
I begin the count again,
One two three,
Waiting to see how long it will
Take.
One Hundred and Five days
Gone to waste, and I
Tried, and I
Failed.
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 1:35 AM UTC
Instincts may rise and fall
with fitful breath
never to soon
to swallow
th'abyssal
undercurrent that
pulls you
over troubled
Oceans all too often
When restless dreams
bring sleepless
Vision-men
out of the
darkest
swell of night~
Fifty nine prayers
will bowl you under
Twelve years of Starless skies
Ten Stone men
in
ruined catacombs
writhing
out
a heartless
Banshee Howl
steal all thee
yearns for
wretching from
the pit of soured insides~
the deepest
Core
aching
to be released.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
Behind the window and through the blinds lies a man, who
stands and perches, naught but a silhouette outlined by the
brown, nicotine-stained glow of the sheets-called-curtains.
Anyway, there's a man there, peering into my window as
measures necessary to enable sleep are taken, but he's
not doing anything, I mean - I'm not sure he's even watch-
ing me, but the hour grows late and try as I might, the mind
runs
wild -
drawing demons from crevices and hands of memory
from the bizarre December thunderstorm winds, and
it's always hard but right now becoming impossible
not to draw lines between nonexistent floating points and
shadow the underside of spinning geometrics. I
don't know how people do it, although I imagine
this ******* guy that will not stop looking at me - ab-
solutely, undoubtedly, has some notiong of how to ..
Hey!
Listen!
I shout, but I'm starting to wonder if he's really there at all
or if maybe he's not a pseudo-fucking floating dot-point
construct, designed and developed and implemented by
some crazed group of people to -----------------------------no!
that is unlikely, and probably impossible - really,
I believe that I'm better now and see ent8irely that said
lying-yet-standing isn't a man, no, but that he is
an
illusion!
Looking around at the soft yellow glow from the low-
yield/high-power bulbs as it leaps from sad chair to
stained and scarred electronics and into my
cerebral cortex, the lack of and maybe .. I can
see now a palpable, blood-like desperat-
ion for wont of any sort of human contact - it is
wretching, but ever-present - because, currently, that
cannot
be.
And really is there ever anything nearly as damaging
and damning and, I think I'd argue, driving as the desperate
drive that comes from knowing that what you know is impossible to
rationalize? The terrible tragedy is the way that vile
data manifests itself, corrupting and poisoning pure s
streams, but becoming aware of this wasn't half so bad as
realizing that man you just spent hours learning to hate was
never
there.
Jul 4, 2010
Jul 4, 2010 at 12:27 PM UTC
Trying
Trying to form
Trying to form the thought
It hurts too badly
The toilet calls for me
Trying
Trying to find
Trying to find the shirt
I lost in my stupor
Wretching at every step
Trying
Trying to think
Trying to think of where
In the ****** hell I am
Who's house is this?
Trying
Trying to force
Trying to force the water
To stay inside my stomach
Every breath brings more *****
Trying
Trying very hard
Trying very hard to stand
The room spins in a terrible way
Fall to the floor alone
Trying
Trying not to
Trying not to smell
The smoke and whiskey stench
Throttling the air around me
Trying
Trying to remember
Trying to remember my steps
Bringing me to this painful juncture
Lost memory blackened out
Trying
Trying to will
Trying to will myself
Into believing this is my house
And that I need help here.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
I like talking about *******
And I like laughing about awkward situations that aren’t my own
I love hearing about how other peoples parent relationships are just as ****** up if not more than mine.
I feel understood when someone new inevitably tells me they have anxiety,
Or that they hated school.
Cigarettes and beer on men’s breathes still make me dissociate.
And I still try and squash my stomach out of existence or into my pocket to put someone else’s comfort first.
And I still ignore pain during *** and separate my mind and body into compartments to situate myself in the part where it feels good.
I’m still angry.
I still get pangs when I see particular people’s names, or photos, or mention of their friends or favourite music. The pang is dulled now like a blunted needle…
But still the stab reminds me of the twang it used to bring.
That would pull at my limbs till I was foetal and wretching.
I think I got bored of my own pain,
Or I wore myself out.
I think there’s only so long you can hold both sides of a non-existent conversation.
I’m still reaching for affection, compliments and pet names…
And I don’t know if it’s ****** or parental but god I just want to be hugged.
I caught myself by surprise once when I snuggled up to my dad and as I lay beside him watching a movie, I revealed to myself how much I was hurting.
I am sick of crying bathroom selfies. I am sick of shower crying and breakfast skipping. But I do like the rush your body gives you after you’ve let loose on tears.
It makes me wonder if depression is just a little bit addictive.
I still like that feeling…and sometimes I want to feel sad because it feels deep..
But it’s only enticing until you’re there and then it’s a deceptive tar pit of hell,
And you’re tricked and sticky and heavy.
I haven’t been depressed in ages,
But my memory’s bad so I might have felt awful last week
I’m not sure.
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 6:57 AM UTC
guilty tears fall as I stare
onto canvas of the past
heart wretching memories
flood my mind.. not sure how to cope with my New found real raw emotion
allowing it to sink into my soul ..not avoiding it or covering it up with poisons
proving to myself... Im actually human.. no reason to run!
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 5:05 AM UTC
I'm afraid of the dark,
the wretching sight of the unseen
the eerie noises that come within,
I'm afraid of the dark,
the endless maze of the colorless
absorbing every bit of light,
I'm afraid of the dark,
the hollowness of the boxed halls
begins to tighten once inside,
My mind
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 10:05 PM UTC
We saw nothing that was inside
your face everything so well did hide
he'll be okay - no use prying
but inside your heart was dying
A mask you wore to hide the pain
the sadness and sorrow, driving you insane
and still we saw nothing, not even a glimpse
not a shudder, a tear, not even a wince
As you stood there, feeling only dispaire
in the silence of 1000 stares
we ran to you, having finally caught on
but too late we came, into the woods you had gone.
Slowly you walked, under the light of the moon
your heart wretching from pain and gloom
and there you came to a solemn standing tree
from which nobody your act could see
Just one moment it took for thee
to set your mind, your soul a'free
at last your suffering put to ease
a lifeless body swaying in the breeze
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 2:24 AM UTC
your eyes wash over me
waves crashing on sand
stripping the beach of its substance
silence stretches between us
growing, blooming
splitting our love into pieces
vines intangling and overtaking
something cold drops from my tear ducts
my heart aches
everything is swallowed
****** into the depth of pain, wretching my body
shaking like an earthquake
you walk away
lowering your head
I howl at you but you keep drifting away
sailing through the ocean that is my mind
the wind whispers to me that you were never mine
you only acted like a gem in my crown,
blending in, but never matching
suddenly I am warm, burning
surrounded by the flames set by you
but the warmth is not enough to throw my winter aside
your lies will not burn my walls down
we are done
I've thrown us aside to make way for a new world to grow
but your roots linger underneath the soil
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 2:39 PM UTC