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nick armbrister Jun 2022
Hades 12
Grrrr! I am the Nemosaur!
Nemosaur *******.
Gonna eat you alive and **** the marrow from your bones.
I'll bight off your toes like munching sweets.
**** your brain outa your skull, slowly.
Bit by bit you cease to exist.
Eaten alive by the Nemosaur.
What bit next?
Vertebrae squash time till your two feet tall, a ****** dwarf meal.
All mine!
Nemosaur is hungry.
Slowly I cut into your fat belly and drink milky white fat.
Then I uncoil your intestines bit by bit, I can taste your last meal.
Yum!
Now the insides.
Rantings of a Damaged Mind
By Nick Armbrister and Mel Grobler
Amanda Kay Burke Jan 2021
I say I don't care
Laugh at problems like it's fine
Masking hurt I feel
You don't say you don't care if you really don't care
Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2020
What you feed
So is the seat
Genre: Minimalist Abstract, Non-Clinical
Theme: Thinking Mind
Author's Note: It is simple, yet too deep. Everything in it.
Shelby Majaiya Nov 2020
The fang of a vampire sinks in deep
Blood of the body against her teeth
That piercing sensation as she drains
The collar of my shirt soaked in blood stains
That weakened feeling I feel stumbling around
With the world around me swirling around
My hunger has altered into a crave
The old me has met an early grave
I can hear the hearts pulsing and pounding
The smell of fresh bait in the surrounding
I can't escape the hunger pains
As thirst for blood runs deep in my viens
I no longer use a fork when I eat
Because the blood of another taste so sweet
I've slept through the day I must feed tonight
But I must resume my slumber when the sun beams bright
Wither Bloodfall May 2020
A poet
doesn't make poetry
to feed the imagination
It makes it
to speak like air
In reality, poetry can mean anything to anyone, but in order to make poetry as incredible as your idol, you must stop holding yourself towards those standards. Speak with your heart, not your mind, you're better than any idol out there.
Poetic T May 2020
Seen in the distance,
        beauty glistened
though ocean waves..

"Help me please,

                              She smiled,
  as she dragged him under...
Poetic T May 2020
Death is beauty,
               as the rose atop of death
feeds on the nourishment of
                                   an empty shell.


Even though its petals decay,
                              its reaches higher

than the tomb
                      to bring life crimson to the surface.
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