Overdose
Twenty four, Or twenty three, Either way, He's too young, Are you sure you're ok in here. I mean, He's about your age, Isn't he.
Thoughts. Dark poems. You have every right to judge.
Twenty four, Or twenty three, Either way, He's too young, Are you sure you're ok in here. I mean, He's about your age, Isn't he.
Check. That look, Stop it.
That must be the smell they talk about, Death, It sits like a veil across a darkened room, A bible, A beacon of light, Death sits in the corner, Waiting with it's prize, To be whisked away, To a...
Confess, Sagittarius,. Please,. I need to hear you say it,. Here,. You say it,. Because if I do,. Then this plot will only get thicker and thicker,. But I'm studying, Sagittarius,.
Quack, Me, A duck in water, Squirrel in branches, Natural, Born to do this, Meant to be here, How dare you lecture the natural, Tell me I am unnatural, Try harder, Try harder, Like I could, Like I...
Violence. The answer. A disposable question. Finite. Unstoppable. A firm requisition. Conflict. War. It's a circular conversation. Violence. The answer. A disposable question. Human loss..
And that's when I realised it was my fault,. I just don't deserve someone like you,. Somebody who doesn't have long left here,. And deserves to go out with a bang,. At least once,.
First we're kissing. Suddenly your tongue's in my mouth. We're pressing into each other. I'm pulling your hair. Your clothes. They're over your head. On the floor. Pulling closer and closer.
Teach me things, Not about the world, Life, But about you.
I'm her.
There's a head shaped hole on top of my neck, Oh wait, That is my head, But why must it be so painful. Why, oh why, oh why. Ow.
I've never dated someone so human before.
You mean what does it feel like. It's...it's like there's always somebody else there, Yeah, Like they're trying to get out or something, Y'know.
Addicted, A parasite a wound inflicted, My stability compromised, Chronically vindictive.
I do not deserve her..
This town is deadbeat,. We need some fresh meat,. To strip back the colours,. And take back the others,. What's a killing,. When it's already out there,. When they're already down there,.
So what's the rush. We're just taking our time here, Nobody needs to tell us no, We're still weighing up the options, Just give us a chance to make our move..
We crossed the wires, Bit the bullet, Dared to pull the trigger, When nobody else would pull it, It's established A lack of respect, We're the resident administrators, And we're about to...
Oh God, What is that. Urgh, an alarm, Why did I set one of those. Urgh, roll over, roll over, Great.
Which begs the question, why the fuck are you stood here telling me about it when you should be out there fucking chasing her?.
Where should you put the candle. Well, isn't that obvious. Find the darkest part of the room, Place it there, And watch it crawl across the walls, Spreading it's light.
Hey, Sorry if this seems strange, But I just need to ask. Did you feel like I went too far the other day.
We're not living in a fortress, baby, So why does it feel like a prison cell. I'm not pretending to forget, baby, So why are you acting like you couldn't tell.
It's been a while since my feet hurt this much, I miss it, It feels like effort put in, And paid off.
Hello everybody. I'm dead. So stop looking at me. My eyes are red. And everybody says that it's all in my head. But I disagree. Nobody else can be as shaky as me..
And I acquit myself to a life of silence. Burn it into my back. A memory. And nobody shall hear these songs. For they shall cease to exist..
And then it occurred to me, If I could write essays this easily, I'd already be doing a Masters..
Why are you still talking. Honestly. Look around. Your grip on the room is slipping, In and out of consciousness. Yet you won't stop. Oh no, You'll keep going. Forever and ever. Well, until four.
Listen. You need to get away from here.
So take your blindfold off. See the world that's right in front of you now. You're not alone here. So stop acting like a fucking martyr..
Nothing..
Doesn't It Seem To Advocate Nearly Crippling Errors?.
Because every poet, At some point, Seems to write a poem about words. I don't understand it. Language. A means to an end, Something that generates, A message to send.
You see, It's always the girl with her eyes pointing at her ankles, That catches my eye, Because inside the bubble she creates, She probably has the most interesting things to say, And as long as you...
Oh just pull yourself together. I'm getting sick of this, You turning up here all the time, Like I'm some kind of agony aunt. Brown those up before you put them anywhere near my pass.