Two weeks dreaming about my dead father has finally got to me.
He is not dead but I left him in the bathtub for three days and he is surely dead by now.
We drag his body. My mother and I carry him back and fourth through the dim hall.
We do not know where to go. He is dead and saying my name but my mother screams. No.
His body is settling, she says. Ignore his words. Im sorry.
They are not words, just sounds, air pockets of gas. He does not say your name, she says.
But he keeps talking and talking and there is an ink drawing of me dead on his shirt pocket.
He is afraid it has scared me away, but how can he say? He has been dead
The water prickes my frozen toes like tiny sewing needles, ready to hem the dry cracks in my skin. Tippy toes, go up on the tippy toes. My scalp is raised so close to the shower head that I imagine the tiniest hairs being singed. The smoke would turn into steam and find comfort inside of my pores. Desperate to stop this disgusting process, I began to drown my pores in soap; ripping off every dead cell on my body. After the pores came the disgusting dead hair hanging past my eyes. Washing becomes religion; only more habitual, more than Sunday. After I'm done I decide to lay on the bathtub floor and find pleasure in gaping hole between my legs.
I came here,
expecting you all to be gone.
I forgot the world goes on without me
I don't want to rethink everything I've ever done in my life.
but i can't help but wonder...
when i took my last breath and jumped off this 4 story...umm.. book,
I thought the cover slammed shut
and you were all pressed between the pages.
I was my main character, all the extras walked off the set right after me.
I was the moon, and you the smallest stars.
I was the punchline to you, you silly funny joke you.
god.
I feel like I've died, and come back to see you got over it months ago.
That's what happens when people die, you know. It is. They die and
I'd like to take this time to be
completely honest with you.
and be completely
honest with myself.
Therefore,
I'd like to make some incision into
my chest
crack my ribs,
and be completely open with you.
Now that you can see all
of what's inside of me,
everything I hide from me
myself
and
i
and everyone else.
I should ask:
How do you feel?
How does it make you feel?
Tell me,
How do I feel?
I should ask:
What do you see?
or maybe
How do you look?
Tell me,
How do you look all inside of me?
It would be pretty cliche and
the root of all
teenage poetry
to say under my ribs my
heart is tangled up.
W
Hundreds of our boys
drafted.
with strength and confidence.
Thinking, " We can do anything."
"Soldiers can do anything."
Armed.
With the power to save themselves
through the cold steel and ammunition.
"We've got protection. We have artillery!"
Hundreds of soldiers
fighting.
Falling, those casualties,
Oh! Fall down you casualties!
Hundreds !
to hundred ,
to tens and to fives....
and
to one.
1
and
to one.
1
To one lone soldier.
Standing.
Looking around.....
"...Sergeant? ................Lieutenant?"
Talking into the bulletproof...fail proof! radio,
"Backup! Bring Backup!"
He drops his weapon.
And throws
She tiptoed so fragile across the hallway. Her feet moved rhythmically to the songs that played inside her head.
Everyone just gave up to easily. You all just lost hope. So, like any other human under these circumstances, she just gave up. But it's okay, it's all okay.
Her heart skipped a beat when the alarm went off, but the buzz calmed her nerves after a few minutes. She looked to the left, moved to the right. She warned you.
The laced curtains sway back and forth, making like some cheap black and white film. Frustrated, she ties the strings of the cloth on the sides and let the sun shine in.
The world is just too dark.
On the street
Face Masks, and what not. by lesseroflindsey, literature
Literature
Face Masks, and what not.
This city collapses with destruction
for
it's inhabitants are choking
on their own black lungs.
but
The survivors just cough.
and point fingers.
After all,
We could blame the pollution.
or the cigarettes we smoke.
Or even blame the doctors,
for not warning us to wear
. face
. masks.
to filter out the secrets we breathe.
and the lies we tell.
I stare at the open wound,
the abstract sensation of insanity.
The volume is to loud.
The eyes are clouded with melancholy.
The tear leaves a satin scar.
The trailing of blood runs over the marks of Satin.
And your pink sweater hides the curse.
And the overgrown outlook pretends to shadow.
But we all see the inner sanctuary of self.
Everyone hates to deem you were right
Only the voices appreciate the pain of shatter.
Your secluded mind effects the world of humanity.
Only the voices appreciate the pain of shatter.
You were right.
Only the voices appreciate the pain of shatter.
I'm alone again,
The dollar toys accompany me.
It's storming outside
I'm vomiting my feelings
All the shit I hide
The picture frame is shattered
I'm cut by falling glass.
I call and I hang up
Obsessing to harass.
Cinderella glares at me
Panic disables me to see.
The many figurines watch me die
The little demons laugh,
They are plotting murder, I know why
I lost your hope, my inner self
I'm so damn paranoid, toy
I'm hanging by a rope.
What are you thinking
In the dawn of the day
death from the beginning,
last chance to play.
Where did you go,
after the children went home,
you sat in the corner,
Reciting a dead poem.
What was your request
in the turned over field,
heavens arms greeting you,
accepting without yield.
Are there any regrets,
From the road not taken,
the road was safe there
you were mistaken.
I didn't keep my promises,
I fell back into this place.
I've let the world down again,
my life is one disgrace.
My head is held in shame,
Guilt has taken away my life.
God has given up on me,
I lead myself with strife.
Depression holds my hand,
and takes me to my hell,
I don't want to show my face,
God knows I slipped, I fell.
I've ran out of spare mistakes,
The thoughts of mine appalling,
Everybody knows I tried,
Only the Lord knows that I'm falling.
How the Memories Fade by lesseroflindsey, literature
Literature
How the Memories Fade
You're speak of all wellness,
Includes torture to your lies,
You're deaf spoken mind,
conceals all your cries.
Covered in clothing,
you're tattered fair skin,
you're sunken in eyes,
beg for help to come in.
You don't want to go home,
Perplexed and afraid,
Ruined childhood memories,
How the memories fade.--
The father that held you,
when the life was unwell,
Inevitably the same man,
who turned life into hell.
There's no where to turn,
you feel so betrayed,
the once perfect picture,
how the memories fade.--
All you ask for is love,
and so long you've waited,
It's odd how it changes,
from being loved to be h
When the world is on your shoulders,
and your run out of room to hide.
The mirror shows all blank faces,
You learn you've lost all pride.
When your tied down with fear,
And no one to confide,
You notice your alone,
You learn you've lost all pride.
When the right words don't come out,
And inner emotion has died,
You can't explain your feelings,
You learn you've lost all pride.
When the night gets pitch black,
And all the tears have been cried,
You collapse in self fear,
You learn you've lost all pride.
So many whispers,
so many secrets to tell.
Locked up inside of us,
in our own little shell.
Our whole life is hidden
and we lower our voice.
we are not being punished,
our secrets, our choice.
Time has been wasted,
Lives have been torn.
Secrets ruin people
Secrets are sworn.
Humble are the expressions,
from soft lips to an ear.
Secrets are forbidden.
Secrets must stay here.
Hidden are our scars,
told one single soul.
Secrets are shared,
to fill this empty hole.
Embedded in our minds,
so anxious to tell.
Secrets live within us,
Secrets live in hell.
The butter coated spoon by lesseroflindsey, literature
Literature
The butter coated spoon
Licked the last envolope,
I'm brainwashed by the tv.
I will become extinct,
my brain cells are killed off by the tv.
The only word left is blah.
I purchased the last of the paper,
It's time to stop now.
Venting on the tv,
I will learn to kill oneself.
Mail off the remains of my brain.
Finish the peanut butter.
I am so damn paranoid,
I blame the demented tv.
I hate the government and the tv.
And the Bride Wore Handcuffs by lesseroflindsey, literature
Literature
And the Bride Wore Handcuffs
She pours perfume on an open wound,
to remind herself of the pain of love.
The sparks of the fire,
receive company by the boquet.
She drowns him with her final tears,
with a carved grin on his soft lips.
The innocence of a white wedding dress,
tattered a blood shed red of Satan.
She shall walk down the isle while the requiem plays,
With a smile and a tear.
The ring is placed on her finger,
he is placed in the closet.
Wedding anxiety blankets the couple.
The overwhelming sensation of a wedding murder,
She looks at her last love and walks back.
Such a beutiful wedding,
and the bride wore handcuffs.
Where were you, my shining star,
Near to death, I wasn't far.
Where were you, to tell me no,
Right from wrong, I didn't know.
I followed along, just to fit in,
Killing myself, suicide is a sin.
Where were you when I needed you?
Where were you when I didn't know what to do.
Alone and I'm scared, I followed the crowd,
I bow my head now, I am not proud.
How low can I sink, how much shit can I do?
Still through it all, I always blame you.
Passed out on the floor, shaking and cold,
So close to the end, I start to unfold.
My vision is blurred, my words are all slurred,
All of the sounds are no longer heard,
Where were you to h
board games and gas mileage by silentscream, literature
Literature
board games and gas mileage
At the supermarket
When you were trying to decide
Between roasted peanuts or sugar coated
I ran to your car
That you so temptingly left the keys in
And drove on the interstate
All the way to South Dakota
Mt. Rushmore spotted me
And invited me up
For some coffee
And a quick game of Monoply
Thomas Jefferson
Made a promise
That he would stay forever
Saying that he had grown quite attatched
It was that fine remark
That made me dig out his nose
Climb up
And become more mature
You\'re still trying to decide
Between roasted or sugar
While i\'m trying to adjust
To you not being here for me
Driving so far away
Hasn\'t helped m
Her technique
completely
Controls me;
Holds me.
She's essentially the most beautiful leaf
to crash and land
on my soft shoulder
And I simply
want to hold her.
Your fear is ego-driven regarding
the love placed from
His heart to that of
His brother's;
His lover's.
In a world where soul mates are
Replaceable
And spouses are
Impossible,
We ask love to hide.
lesbian for five hundred
yes please fuck me yes please,
i think the world is a huge vagina
and I'd like to feast on this thanksgiving day/
chinese men have specialties
asian men are such a tease
strip strip strip chicken grease!
and german max makes me say please
to fuch him hard, and suck him good
hump hump lovely lady max
oh no! mojo, I've started my period
red, flow, red, flow, red
I cannot bandage because the pee won't flow
vagina-aid, come quick!
(or just a really big dick)
i need a condom vagina face
kendra donaldon
...............fucks pete and pete
and grow up to be pn the movies, slacker
freckle, freckle snow
.
He has legs like parentheses.
- holding the words
of my
aching thighs
tight.
- gazelle runner
yellow jacketed
forced to return.
- kick in the teeth
elemental fury
with
clean, wet whiskers
He has legs like parentheses
but
every time
I catch him looking
his eyes scream
period.
.
calendars and the kids by yourotherleft, literature
Literature
calendars and the kids
she pushed a nail into the
drywall and hung her calendar, a perfect
glassy grid that now
sweats off the long months
past from the space between the window
and the refrigerator. with the first
threads of snow crawling
out from their clouds i am opening
the photo albums and she is
asking why. and every glossed face is
another expired summer sun
and that rigid skyline whispers back
in slow and careful reminders:
this one is the reason
i don't wear socks, this one is
why every morning i slip
a watch around my skinny wrist, and why
i cross streets without looking.
and she doesn't want to
hear and so our city is sile
How we've grown! All of us! Did you survive the last three years?
I have transformed into you and you and you and you and me and us together.
I am one, I am all.
These years have enligtened me.
I never expected myself to turn out like this.
It's so funny.
I'm very happy.
I love you. I want to kiss you and hold you and love you forever.
I never thought I would have to say goodbye to her. really. It really is a tragedy.
I love you Ese.
And I could speak on behalf of thousands of people and say we will all miss you.