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ria Jan 2020
In my fantasies,
The dark and deep,
Where fog pools at our feet,
And the cries echo in the distance,
And sigh in defeat.

You wait for me,
Standing in all your glory,
Laying out in all your pride,
You stare me down,
Hot and heavy,
With lust burning in your eyes.

You reach for me,
Fingers stretch,
You groan for me,
With slight hums under your breath.

Your skin meets mine,
The sparks erupt,
It's perfect,
Heavenly even.

You're my muse,
My inspiration,
My reason is you.

You hold my waist,
Nails digging in,
You lean,
Lips pursed,
We kiss,
Gently.

You press,
Harder, harder,
I bite your lip,
Breaking skin,
Breaking everything,
We sin.
ria Dec 2019
When specks of ash float on the breath of the last great tree,
When the heat Scorches the final blade of grass to dust,
When the sun dares to rise again,
We will prevail.

When the ocean’s great white waves blow back black,
When the last leaf sways down to its final resting place,
When the clouds seem to always cry,
We will rise.

When the breeze whispers it's melodious secrets,
When the earth stops beating the drum of its heart,
When the water’s legato rhythm becomes jagged,
When the fire eats up everything that is left,
We will feast.

We will devour the last of mankind.
We will peel skin,
We will pick nails,
We will lick the very fingers that once fed us.

Unforgiving,
We take the young.

Heartless,
We watch them burn.

Happily,
We yearn for more.

In the end,
I rise to take my throne.
Stepping on empty skulls,
Snapping, cracking, and
Creaking to sit upon the empty wasteland of bones.

I smile,
Sitting back to admire my creation.
The birth of something new.
A perfect melody built just for you,
And this time, you better sing.
mjad Jul 2019
My heart was left splattered
The room has been left untouched
Blood has dried on the walls around me
But he walks around scraping it off
My body quivers in fear
His nails drag on the surface
But his eyes stay on me
White paint peaks through
I feel like I'm about to puke
Taking the broom he sweeps
My broken heart right to me
As if his cleaning was helping me
He forgot and forgave, and I was not ready for that mental cleansing yet
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Thoughts eating away at my brain,
mouth drying away,
lips sealing my shrieking soul away,
tongue stuttering away,
heart palpating away,
lungs having no air,
muscles fidgeting away,
fear crippling my soul away,
nails chipping away,
stress rushing to my brain,
vision blurring away,
tears streaming down my face,
body trembling away
as anxious nerves take me away.
stranger Jul 2019
My yellow nail polish is chipping off
I'm an amalgamation of skin... Too irascible at times.
Whatever feeling the burn on my finger holds,
It's never for me to find.
But my broken nails say otherwise.
I've taught myself to be quiet but every other bubble has to burst right?
Morbidly watching time pass me by.
I feel older than I should be.
Like my entire life flashed by me and it wasted itself in one of the new year fireworks.
Milisecond lasting sparks.
16 years of them.
Sparks that ignite fires sporadicly over the wrong beings.
Ain't I a walking masterpiece?
The pretty girl carrying fire in the pockets of her jeans.
Spark up my existence if you could.
Kick-start my delusion.
Perhaps I'll be able to understand my own vision.
Dreaming away life ahead of itself.
I'm getting the hang of it.
My writing stopped putting in the effort to make sense.
Or was that me?
I'm feeling hazy in another universe.
Fading away rapidly.
Running up and down my stairs
I fear the day this house'll be empty.
So I remain home in despair.
I wish I could see myself clearly.
if anyone reads this tell me if you've got any feeling from it, tell me if it kickstarted your synesthesia, tell me my words still make sense.
throughout the years
my heart has been bashed and broken
shattered and torn
dismantled and crushed
but i kept it together with nails and screws

then he came along
and slowly tore them out
one by one
until he was the only thing holding me together

he mended my broken heart
and i no longer need nails and screws to hold me together
he saved my broken heart
MisfitOfSociety May 2019
Building the ark when the flood has already come.
Using the finger nails of the drowned to hold it together.
Will this keeps us a float,
Or will we sink and join the dead below?
Random Thoughts
The Napkin Poet Mar 2019
Black moss and flower pots.
She cometh not, she cometh not.
Lonely and moated,
Rusted nails broken.

Dew with tears,
An hour before sunlight.
Cold winds wake,
A greyish mourn.
Clustered marish-mosses,
Silver green bark.

In a dreamy home.
Among wainscot,
Door hinges creak.
Like a mouse,
She shrieked-
She cometh not, she cometh not.
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