| ✰ | Poetry Maybe

[woes]

I feel nothing towards your sorry excuses-
The deer teeth you send feel like stones in my pockets,
The fox heart under my pillow burns away at the fabric.
You've cursed me with your horrid gifts.

[woes]

A sixpence wears away at my brittle mind-
Money had never been my strong-suit.
I wish to take what you never would give me.
I'll do what i must to fix my soul.

[woes]

Someday you will see
The pain that you've given me
The teeth you leave in my lockers
The way you make my arms go numb or
That disgusting wretch of emotion you sell
You horrible beast, i know you too well
Run while you can, i won't show mercy
Not this time.
You don't deserve it.

[dotdottdoot]

uHH aug since when did you write these amazing poems??? 10/10 i loVE



Mark

[woes]

I fear the worst, I fear the best,
They've pierced my lungs, pierced my chest,
I feel the pains of nothing left,
I weep for those who will never rest.

[woes]

Please forgive me, love. I feel nothing anymore
Aside from the gentle beating of your heart.
Please, love, do not fear the flames
Of passion that you see in me.
Rather, feel the heat of love and hatred,
Feel the welcoming aura of love-struck obsession.

Forgive me, love, I can’t stop myself.
I won’t refrain from calling you mine.
An anonymous note, a mysterious gift,
Someday soon you’ll be my valentine.

[woes]

Forest of ash and flames of old,
I ask for forgiveness, for I am told
That my path is one of danger and cold.
My sins will carve my name in gold.

[woes]

Follow the creek to where the crickets swarm in song. Listen closely to their melodies, but do not hear their voices.
The lyrics they spin into beautiful tales will lead you on your way to hell.

Life presented you with the burning of innocence,
yet you said nothing.

sympathy fails where lies can not reach;
beware the one that begs forgiveness.

God has abandoned us in his search for answers.
He, too, seeks to know what created him.
He, too, has lost himself trying to find a purpose.
A mortal falls as does a god, do not fool yourself.

[woes]

I pray to a god I do not believe in,
I beg her to save what is left of my skin,
I ask of her a miracle I cannot control,
I wish for something in life that will not grow dull.

[woes]

Slamming your face into the darkness presents a problem of its own;
Somehow, through splintering thoughts and shining halos,
You've become aware of your own existence.
Something about this action proves you are alive.
The thought disgusts you.