No because sometimes reassurances aren't enough, you know?
Sometimes it isn't enough to remind yourself that you are alive despite whatever atrocities you've ever faced.
Sometimes telling yourself that it'll eventually get better, just isn't enough anymore.
Because sometimes bleeding feels better on the inside and it's a safer bet to drown yourself in the ethanol and pike yourself on a wooden cross in the front yard.
Sometimes trying to think positively is the last line of defense between your breathing lungs and your beatless heart, and it's ok to bite your own arms.
Sometimes it's ok to rip chunks of flesh from your own thighs and wallow in self whatever-your-choice-of-mental-poison-is.
Sometimes dying alone is not a big deal, and then sometimes it's the only activity you could ever possibly do to keep yourself from commiting a psycho-schizophrenic fueled genocide, because one overzealous "preacherman" told you that you are unworthy of rest, that one time.
Because every once in a while you need to hang yourself with a silk rope from an overdramatic oak tree, and that's ok.
Because sometimes dramatics are good for the nervous system.
Categories:
beatless, anger, dark, gothic, mental
Form: Free verse
THE moon slid slowly from the light
to slumber in the crepuscular shroud
An illuminated universe lies
in the silver light’s glow
The mighty golden note slumbering
in a valley of undying silence
The distant crimson light’s whisper
Causing butterflies in its wake
The song of the moon played so sweet
as the golden sun faded behind
Now hear the bitter mocking warble
of the bitter hermit’s chant
and ghosts watch me leave you further behind
As the dirt drips down bedding your heavy box
the front of your funeral dress all shadowy lined
And droning iridescent crickets throb in time
within your beatless heart
Cry, Pink White
Cry, Pink White
Cry, Pink White
Like a needle in the pinball machine
you don’t know what you got till it’s gone
If you’re the only one to hold me in your arms
Baby please don’t make me cry
Say it with me now
Cry, Pink White
Cry, Pink White
Cry, Pink White
My Cherry Blossom Heart
:: 07.27.2022 ::
Categories:
beatless, dark, life, love,
Form: Free verse
You stab at my manufactured beatless heart,
and tear off my tattered burlap textile.
Puncturing the weakened breath from my tight lungs.
To you, I’m just a naked doll’s unsexed part,
while enduring revenge pain for your feigned love.
Taking mock death with a bent smile from the start.
Your list grows longer, my devotion stays true.
Our creativeness shown like expensive art.
Sharp pins and needles make me feel worthwhile,
from the tight breath puncturing my weakened lungs.
Us two, hand-in-hand, this world we must depart.
Contest Name: A New Abracadabra Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor Name: Emile Pinet
Style: Rhyme (Abracadabra)
Date: April 14, 2021
Categories:
beatless, abuse, dark, devotion, gothic,
Form: Rhyme
Come to me, my pretty thing,
For killed I was and dead I’ve been.
The flowers strewn about my grave
I bring to you this lovely day.
Draw not back, my little lass.
Soon all your fears will leave and pass.
Your love I seek to give me life;
I’ve come to take you for my wife.
The coffin, Dear, is a lonely place,
And no one there can know my face.
The rattling bones of those I see
Are not a dead man’s company.
You turn away, you turn to go,
My beatless heart has sunken low.
My casket calls me with a sigh…
I’ll have to wait until you die.
Categories:
beatless, beauty, dark, death, desire,
Form: Rhyme
close my coffin and let me be
because with blind eyes i cannot see
with a broken heart it cannot beat
with empty lungs i cannot breath
nightmares watching over me
with empty dreams of you and me
scattered pictures in my head
fills my beatless heart with dread
Categories:
beatless, dark, goodbye, heartbroken, love
Form: I do not know?
My eyes see no place to go_
My eyes are the window to my soul_
My heart feels empty and cold,_
My heart feels beatless and old_
My life is blowing along with the wind_
My life was over before it even begin_
My brain is the boss_
My brain has me feeling hollow and lost_
Categories:
beatless, crazy,
Form: ABC
my heart that beats without a drum
its cheating starts from your fake glum
and thundering sounds of natures turn
instead does pound my beatless churn
and smell i may of dead mans waste
and see i may of dying breeds race
and hear the sounds of babys cry
to motherless frowns as the earth now dies
and again my beatless heart stops dead
and friends i never knew now bled
Categories:
beatless, heart, heart, may,
Form: I do not know?
My head is spinning fast,
as I am tumbling down.
Troubles are coming fast,
as I try to choke them down.
Suffocate on the distortion.
In my mind's eye, misery abides.
In my charred, beatless heart,
your words emphasize lost hope.
My fear and your faith...
undeniable friendship...
my solitaire release.
Categories:
beatless, confusion, depression, devotion, forgiveness,
Form: I do not know?
Formation of water appearing on his head
Lying lifeless the beads of cold run down to his heart
Beatless it waits for any sign of life
Like a rose, his body insists for the morning sun
His soul left him not 2 hours ago
Cut down short by a dagger in his chest
The lonely water propells into his wound
Cleansing it of remorse and guilt
Too later, he cannot feel the healing power of nature
As dawn breaks and the sun beams into his bones
Drying his darkness and relieving his dead mind
The day has cleansed this lost being
Mother nature has kissed his body with her tears
Warmth of the sun has eliminated his evil ways
For now he is part of our world....her world
Decomposing for others to feed off
Good or bad everyone needs to pass
Soon time will get you, and when it does
Will the sun heal your wounds
Or will the water cleanse your soul
Or will it be too late......
Categories:
beatless, death, faith, life, nature,
Form: I do not know?
Twisted minds subcultured kinds
sounds from in the night
it takes away the light from day
and makes thier life not right.
Angry words cut like a sword
they often disagree
once not at all now to great the wall
taking her away from he.
It brings him down this round and round
why does this have to be
he did his best more than the rest
to no avail he sees.
Past regrets can not forget
forgiveness seldom known
violent scenes and broken dreams
and hearts turned into stone.
A beatless drum each rising sun
again there is no change
an endless lope with little hope
there lifes seem prearranged.
Those answers souight to countless thoughts
their convictions forced to bend
bring a strange desire to cause a fire
so all might come to end.
Categories:
beatless, lost love, love, parody,
Form: ABC
Twisted minds subcultured kinds, sounds from in the night
it takes away the light from day and makes this life not right.
angry words cut like a sword,we often disagree
once not at all, now to great the wall,taking you away from me.
It brings me down this round and round, why does this have to be.
I did my best more than the rest, to no avail I see.
past regrets can not forget, forgiveness seldom known
violent scenes and broken dreams and hearts turned into stone
a beatless drum each rising sun, again there is no change
an endless lope with little hope, life seems prearranged.
Answers sought to countless thoughts, convictions forced to bend
A strange desire to cause the fire, so all might come to end.
Categories:
beatless, confusion, introspection, life, love,
Form: I do not know?