Breath grinds stone in the hollow chest,
time loops, cruel clockwork chewing marrow.
Each step refracts an endless cascade,
mirrors eating mirrors, swallowing meaning.
She watches herself dissolve, still walking,
hands trembling over undone buttons.
The walls bend inward, whispering static:
a language faceless, flat, unending.
Memory slits its own throat quietly,
bleeds until the air stinks of void.
Faces blur, cruel smudges framed in frost.
Fingers forget what they’ve once held.
The ceiling fractures, mercury spills night.
Dust coats the tongue, sour scripture of collapse.
Sanity laughs, teeth like shattered porcelain.
She screams and keeps on breathing.
Nothing stops. Nothing starts. Stillness spins.
Somewhere in the debris, she remains
a scream folded inside a name,
a self rusting softly in endless loop.
Breath grinds stone in the hollow chest,
time loops, cruel clockwork chewing marrow.
Each step refracts an endless cascade,
mirrors eating mirrors, swallowing meaning.
She watches herself dissolve, still walking,
hands trembling over undone buttons.
The walls bend inward, whispering static:
a language faceless, flat, unending.
"Echo without collapse"
Memory slits its own throat quietly,
bleeds until the air stinks of void.
Faces blur, cruel smudges framed in frost.
Fingers forget what they’ve once held.
"Echo without collapse"
The ceiling fractures, mercury spills night.
Dust coats the tongue, sour scripture of collapse.
Sanity laughs, teeth like shattered porcelain.
She screams and keeps on breathing.
Nothing stops. Nothing starts. Stillness spins.
Somewhere in the debris, she remains
a scream folded inside a name,
a self rusting softly in endless loop.
"Echo without collapse"
Perfect gift for a special one
Not at-random for just any ONE!
An indestructible expression
Of eternal ascension
Rightfully-fitting for loved ones, lovers, or between friends!
Band of eternal circle with neither flaw nor end.
Round and round – no corners to turn
Infinite lessons yet to learn
As all found within one’s circle closer become
To venture hidden corners, still yet to come
Hearts all beat and join as one!
Perfect expression of an infinite love
Between loved ones or friends joined above
Perfect emblem of an unbreakable pact
Contains not any pinching slits
Nor cutting splits
Remaining forever together intact
As strong as the unretractable pact
Or as strong as the forever-binding of a signed-contract,
The Rings are an emblem of Love’s Infinite Eternity
Reaching past and beyond one’s greater destiny…?
"The castle’s bones and its ghosts mingle, and memory glimmers into a passage unseen." quote by poetess
Within the castle’s moon-hushed marrow,
dust-soft echoes mingle~
old footsteps brushing the present
like ghosts testing the air.
Lunar light sifts through arrow slits,
silvering the stone’s worn sighs;
even the shadows seem to listen
for a story still half-asleep.
And somewhere in the quiet,
a forgotten door breathes open~
inviting the living to mingle
with whatever memory remains.
storm outside rattling
solace in another’s hand
r u p t u r e cracking pane ~
lightning flashes pain
no cloud laughing when sky slits
shake smoothie slowly
storm shatters saucer
thicket thunder not blunder
rupture is solace ~
When night closes in,
In the candle light she sits,
With book under chin,
Procuring knowledge in bits,
As the moonlight sneaks through slits.
If I were rich I would be eccentric,
but here and now I am simply crazy.
He watches from shadows, you know
with glowing eyes only I can see.
He speaks with a voice in my head
saying Mother does not care if Father…..
But the shadow cares as he speaks words of comfort
and brings me glittering gifts of steel.
The knife doesn’t care whose throat it slits,
and blood is such a beautiful, passionate color.
A fleeting satisfaction
A silent pain
You use this to cope,
Can you call yourself sane?
An effort to relieve,
A try to be okay;
A silent cry for help,
Yet you hide it meticulously.
Other times you deserve it,
Or at least you think you do.
A punishment for being you,
A pathetic comfort.
A tiny metal,
Slits of satisfaction;
Bleeding and breathtaking,
Deadly yet fulfilling.
No slits watching, the lumps draw near
Reforming slowly, the Peak becomes clear
Forming fingers, then twitchy toes
Returning quickly, from Smith's Repose
Streaky strips of pus aligned
On a cage organically mined
Stars above a starless glove
Where fingers coil to give a shove
Lumps leap down from the Seat
Toes and fingers, strike and meet
Wilting flowers with every catch
Further, further, 'til it feels a latch
Writhing round the handle's shape
It has no strength as a mangled cape
Searching inwards, with no eyes
"A SiNgLe pRoBlEm HoLdS mAnY LiEs"
Like how the plant changed temperaments
The carcass embraces the elements
Hugging the hatch, its metal form
A searing goo begins to swarm.
Barmy blacksmiths, forging Fate
Smack-dab, smashed and working late
Stuck deep in and wrenching wrists
Tattered skin on itchy fists
Spewing salty starless space
Into eyes and all over face
The wall and put your best foot on
A boxy board housing Spawn
Groggy gauges, clicking close
To the time the Boss had chose
Feeling funny, one Smith exits
Others watch him through their slits
Lined looking, between blades
Hanging hazards, shovels and spades
Their brother's bowel blows and boils
As life's liquid bursts and soils
Clothes clamped, stammered sound
Shrieking lumps, lurching around
Weapons washed, in red and green
The first, and last, blacksmith seen.
Through two narrow slits,
light photons unfurl as waves
with interference—
when watched they harden to points,
but unseen they share a swim.
So too for our selves
form and shadow share one skin—
defined, undefined
we change masks under glances,
being shaped by who's watching.
Our many-held selves,
playful, solemn, split by gaze
actors in context—
only under scrutiny
are we firm focused solid.
Long, wide, vast, high, dreadfully deep protective walls
Battlements, ramparts, bulwarks, and tower folders
Living quarters, arrow slits, gatehouses, and halls
Monstrous walls built as though with steel-alloy boulders
Water-filled deep massive moats to obstruct the foes
Bastions and merlons within majestic meadows
Forts and castles are mysteries of histories.
They are focal themes of bewildering stories.
Written: October 11, 2025, for contest sponsored by: Craig Cornish
*****************
The obsolete stone fort stood ubiquitous and ominous,
a layer was full of tales and osmosed senses.
Towers cast a silence that weighed on my chest—
as the wind whistled through castle slits,
It slid past the slumped ramparts.
Wet clay—damp air sighed in the gaps of dawn,
cold beared my step, which felt both cruel and vast.
Fear and solitude were etched into every wall~
yet my will flared, torchlike, in my gaze.
This castle—whether chosen or not—is my refuge,
The roof evokes nostalgia yet lacks warmth—
I recall sunshine seeping over willow trees,
The stones convey the idea of fortitude.
Life must follow me from hollow halls—
to chambers where my pulse dares to echo.
It ought to linger where apathy holds no sway~
quench your thirst from the dark wells of lust.
Shape a shield from the void that wraps us,
It is dotted with heirlooms, built bare of love,
and grasped tightly in the inferno of despair.
The interior is a scary place
with hallways that seem
to go on forever and doors
behind which there are
darkened or half lit rooms
with nothing inside except
eyes that watch you
out of slits in face masks
hung upon the wall.
There are whispers creeping
along corridors and out
on the far edges of hearing,
the sound of someone
calling. This place has
no windows just thin,
clenched threads of light
hanging down from cracks
in the ceilings and a pale
glow crawling out from under
the bottom of a locked door.
There are no exits
in private museums.
He is no longer in love with me.
His spoken words flesh caught like dull razors.
Churning pains toss me in raw seeped reelings.
I feel feather fragile as weighty aches
conflict and trip me upon foreign ground.
Heavy, my eyes are merely tear-weak slits.
God, in prayer I do ask, with mercy come
and ease my wrecked self with gift feels of numb.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.