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Literature Text
Seditious inclinations seethe submerged.
Weeping meat is painted to look like flesh.
What savageries lurk, longing to be purged?
Fetid, rotten insides tear wounds afresh.
Can such filth, dark as coal, produce these gems
that fall from my lips like toads from their maws?
We who fear the dark of night, light condemns.
Wallow in what lies in masks filled with flaws.
Subsume this foul pit; would your soul submit?
Weeping meat is painted to look like flesh.
What savageries lurk, longing to be purged?
Fetid, rotten insides tear wounds afresh.
Can such filth, dark as coal, produce these gems
that fall from my lips like toads from their maws?
We who fear the dark of night, light condemns.
Wallow in what lies in masks filled with flaws.
Subsume this foul pit; would your soul submit?
Literature
Nocte
Hiding from the beast,
From tree to tree,
Running in the dark,
I tell myself such things,
Slow- so it won't find you,
Breath.
These fires have scorched far and wide,
Leaving the scent of my former cinders to linger in my head,
Like some bad bender,
Warped memories encircling grey,
The ground is made of shattered glass,
Broken dreams.
No lilies remain,
To any kingdom I run,
In mirrors of liquid glass,
Surrealist battles are won,
And like fear,
The spider crawled from my mouth.
They are sedating everything,
Brush pixilated,
Focus changing,
Leaving me to run in the dark,
Caught in the eye of the storm,
Hiding in the calm.
Literature
On the cusp of dawn
There are yellow daisies,
Two pairs of glasses,
And a watch abandoned in the dark.
There are socks strewn across the floor,
Jeans, a belt, a bra.
I am curled like a comma
Next to your heated skin,
Listening to you breathing in,
And out--
Rhythmic like the tides.
The stars have faded.
The morning light may soon trickle in,
but for a silent, suspended moment--
It's just you and me
On the cusp of dawn
Literature
Home
Dear you
You probably don't know
I wrote about you yesterday
and the day before that.
But my favorite part was when you made me tea and it tasted like home.I drank all of it because that is what normal people do,but when I took your cup to the dishwasher
I saw you left a lil bit of tea in it, just like I normally would and i felt even more at home.
Today when you were siting next to me I was cutting out the word home from my paper and it seems like you have been a round a lot when the word 'home' is used but I guess that's one of the building blocks to start building a home, is someone who's going to be around.
I woke up this morning with a
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This is a sonnet petit for #FormFindsFunction 's challenge 5, and for prompt #4, Masquerade, from #Heart-of-Poetry. It is much belated to both. 
Feedback and criticism is welcome~
Feedback and criticism is welcome~
© 2012 - 2024 goddess-of-ravens
Comments5
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Very morbid indeed but beautiful in its construction.