She’s the only thing that sticks with me, She’s the only things that can truly see She’s the only one who know’s how it feels She’s the only one who never seems to be scared of me. She’s the only it, who can never leave. Where is she? Who is she? she’s in the mirror,… Continue reading Slowly dying, Painfully Crying
Tag: reflection
I…
I I am white wash hair and blue biscuit eyes wooden cheeks
A pointless poem from nobody
Long into this darkness I stare Long do i sit and listen Hissing, screaming, writhing, glaring
Child Abuse
Emotions run with the blood through my body. Fearing they’ll slide off the sliff into the depths of the unseen. Pain flows into the rivers of my mind, shaking violently with unknowingness, and forbidden excitement.
Nihility
Contagion sweeping the leaves on the ground Over the grim grieving goliaths Brushing and crinkling under the wind’s weight Whoosh…and they all pass by
Dementia’s Dream
Sugar coated hatred. Lives, flickering in a graveyard. Tiny strands of hope, broken at the slightest touch, lost forever.
my perfect suicide
“i stand in my bathroom the sharpest razor in my right hand, and in my left, a red rose grasped tightly in my palm. the thorns pricking my hands.
Love Birds Coo
She walks alone and sees herself in a pool of blood Her clothes tattered and covered with mud She feels the guilt she tries to shun As she looks at her hands and sees the remains of what she’s done As her guilt eats away at her and cuts her to the quick She starts… Continue reading Love Birds Coo
Poem: Vampire
As the world is cloaked in night You roam until mornings first light Sunlight being your only barrier From forever feeding off the innocent. The smell of blood brings the greatest pleasure Its taste upon your lips- vivacity beyond measure Your bat-like senses and ambiguous ways In the nip of a neck you pass on.… Continue reading Poem: Vampire
Seven Years
They say they give you seven years, For everytime you break a mirror. But everytime I make mine break, I wasn’t hurting the mirror, I was killing the fake. And using the shards of glass to make Another statistical death. But my reflection won’t go away. And I’m left with another seven years, Time goes… Continue reading Seven Years