Submit here if your poem contains dark themes or emotions.
Nameless Martyr by TheCosmicTraveler, literature
Literature
Nameless Martyr
I'm so very hurt I have holes in my shirt Tearing through my flesh I've been torn apart Left in the rain Left for dead My eyes are dying I'm covered in red I only wanted to help you Targeted for my kindness Lured into the shadows I was murdered there Yet I hold no contempt For you I'll harbor this pain Eat me alive Bury me in your shame It's ok Let go of your murderous desire I'm your victim I will remain quiet I will be your martyr Cast all your sins onto my body I'm the cause of your misey I'm the one to be blamed So I die happily Crying in woes Wishing it could've been different This is the path you chose Let it go....... 4/23/24
Following the witch: another hymn to Aphrodite by JeanDibasson, literature
Literature
Following the witch: another hymn to Aphrodite
Once upon a Time in Italy near the comune of Nemi while walking at a crossroads amidst mystery and melancholy of the street I heard a talking walnut tree a peculiar pulpit and wandered through its holy woods. Carefully stepping through grasses and over mossy stones I came upon a deer path. A trail I tread until nightfall when it led to a lake. The water’s surface shimmered illuminated by the night sky. A cosmic mirror speckled with stars. Overcast on sunken warships of the Emperor sleeping on the lake’s bed dreaming of a drowned cat sacrificed in the sea to summon storms. So I made my way along its shore ruminating on the reflection and arrived at ancient ruins where walls had overgrown with weeping ivy and boughs blooming with mistletoe. A sanctuary where worshipped wilderness reclaimed broken bricks as its own. And solus amidst this Dianic scene was a woman whose white skin glowed under the full moon. Reminiscent of marble memorials or statuesque sculptures of Venus. She had a red
Eaten churches Soul-altering fetishism Human meat filling clear pipes Artistic cultists corrupting the prime species False and catastrophic accusations You press the splinters of the suffering and creative deeper into Their flesh to use their screams for music and Their blood for shitty tattoos So, take those empty urns out of the closet and donate them to The minorities you want to fucking slaughter Pluck the hypocrisy from dicks and pussies The world you want is boring as hell Get used to living near rainbows, gothic nightclubs, And film festivals that feature directors from other countries Embracing diversity will make life so much more enjoyable Those stories are cutting your kids But if that happens, that means you Have a project to work on Great for you, but terrible for them
Her stupidity is becoming stronger, illuminating her blindness during youth Normal conversations are frequently dipped in unfathomable confusion I taste the disappearance of a mother's brain function every day, Excitement and dread coalescing behind my aching eyes A slow death coils around distant limbs, red and asexual The future has so many blurry faces, perfidious and fervent This place is a bustling graveyard, littered and depressing If the image of my body is swallowed by a diminishing ganzhi, I will Fill my heart with departure, send a battalion of orange flares to the sky, Organize my belongings like I'm creating time capsules, and leave this Rancor-drenched town, its people bolstering my dwindling gratitude I do not want to sink deeper into this ground I will not watch another soul fade away
Hi, it's Pot. Just calling to see if Kettle is in. by Chelsinator9000, literature
Literature
Hi, it's Pot. Just calling to see if Kettle is in.
I used to love your hot breath on the back of my neck. So thick I could write "I love you" in it. Now my dewdrop skin feels like a nuisance, and your body language reeks of indifference. How easily passion is replaced by lust. How convenient is the simple betrayal of one's trust? Relationship-based disintegration in exchange for instant gratification. Again, and again, and again. Until you have nothing left to bargain.
I need to breathe by QuillandInkWhispers, literature
Literature
I need to breathe
I need to breathe
I need to live
My life is dark
I cannot see.
You took my heart
And made it bleed.
Blood drips on the
ground. There is no one
that can save me now.
I take this knife and
end my life knowing
that you're not by my
side.
I loved you more than
you would know even though
you never quite loved me so.
I cry for you in the stillness
night thinking I will never be
special in your life.
My soul is empty and
My heart is too
Knowing that I can't have you.
I end this now with an immense
despair feeling that you will
not care.
Here I lay in my bed Blood is dripping, From my wrist and my head I thought I could be strong Guess I was wrong The stress was too much My pain was more than I could bare I leave this world crying Eyes open, with an empty stare What did I have to live for My purpose was uncertain I was just a paper weight Labeled as a burden My heartbeat is slowing My body is too heavy to move The shadows cover me up Oh spirits, now I sing with you 3/31/24
The Universal Language by The-Utopia-Code, literature
Literature
The Universal Language
As obvious as folded arms A gesture threatening harm Not the only bull on the farm Just the same An insult needs no one to blame Only the truth Of acknowledging a cause Causality, casualty, battery, energy Sometimes the effort to deflect an insult Makes in suit a greater result In Kind, but not on our mind Leaving anyone who sees totally blind Not of truth but the effort in kind Can one seem remind Fleeting, fighting, loving, inciting Sometimes being ignorant Of the errant Words Plies into the void Silent forever Forever true Known by no one else but you Waste, chaste, remembered, embraced Everyone understands these things Respite, bite, slap, sting These are some of their favorite things Rejoice! The veil of darkness lifted The tide of blame shifted. Meaning retrieved Meaning gifted. Universal translation requires no language lesson Only the sure foot to Trace back to the start Even if true of heart. Nothing shared in clarity is sometimes best viewed In blurry
Who’s the shadow underneath the mask Who’s the sad clown With a knife behind her back Who’s the secret whisperer And the maker of all dreams Who’s the fragile thread That connects present with the past Who’s the conqueror of pain Who is the child hurt and who licks the scars Who’s the voice that never stops As long as time ticks Who’s the watcher behind the tinted glass The true self never dies Covered by dirt and shame it hides It struggles its way through the tides The shadow and the mask The nameless one behind both lies