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lamiaher body is a cemetery landscape
hung gnarled like october trees
shaking loose in vast autumnal gales
fertile, haunted mother earth,
she whispers, fertile mother
mother of the tombs
fertile, haunted mother earth
but haunted by a barren womb
a birthmark to birth clots of blood
and sickly, bloodless sons
fertile for her monsters
and her ghosts
she hides when daylight comes
the huntedit pained her,
like a lamb
from hungry wolves.
she had birthmarks
so unique, her bones ached
to escape her soul and cage,
but every mark of death
is what the animals were after.
Contradiction TWShe leapt from a window to fly for once, naked as she landed on the hood of a moving car. She had relished the secrets of every suicide attempt, slitting her wrists in a quiet sadness. Overdosing in a quiet sadness. Climbing the stairs to hotel roofs in a quiet sadness. Something haunted her in an unbroken breath of shadows; a perpetual deep inhalation that burned a vacuum inside her.
She leapt from a window to fly for once. I said, she leapt from a window to fly for once. She caused a crash in the middle of Times Square and died out loud like she never lived. Miseries grew heavy in her head and the pit of her stomach, and the volume inside her seeped through her sand swept skin from her hot, hot veins.
She used to cry often when she was alive and dug her skin open and sometimes she screamed with her head against the wall, and
she leapt from a window to fly for once, but she didn’t see the mistake.
PandoraPandora cracks blue
inside me. I
toppled open crates to
a tired blood, an age-old
tale deep inside me.
Pandora shook her head
and began to scream, as
dreams bled out her nightmares
and I took to
of my skin
the body I was in
making dead seas
from heavy things
there is nothing beautiful about this.
I am the girl who opened chlorine chests
to breathe in the alternative
I welcomed knives and tried to break my bones
in doorways, and I tried to purge the demons
tried to starve
tried to carve them out—
but in Pandora’s trunk, I saw it –
in the rage and in the heavy lead & poison gas
I saw hope reaching for me from the bottom
I saw hope last but at the very least
I saw hope reaching me at last.
(Voices)She bashed my bones in with her kisses, slithered well into my ears and spoke of misery to me until misery became my faith. My fingernails rusted from digging deep into my skin, because she told me to.
Because she told me to, her screaming bled together television lines and radio lies. It was a static mess sans antennae so that the only adjustment I could make—
was with the medication.
She spoke with many twisted tongues, as if the woman in the mirror knew one shaky truth – you are worthless – in a dozen languages of devils. I cannot hear her now. I cannot hear them now.
But I wake sometimes into another shaky truth (or fall asleep, I don’t remember) with static beating blood into my ears.
rock bottomshe threw her body into walls
for a bit of silence,bit of violence
to dedicate her soul to shadows,
for the darkness,
for the darkness drew her jealous safety
in a box
in an iron cage--
she talked to moving cracks in plaster
broke her back with the heaviness
of rage. the shadows spurred her heartbeat
(will it fast, will it faster --
someday it's got to stop.)
the darkness crawled inside her
crawled inside, always always there
she tried to purge ghosts from her throat
tried to purge the monsters from her veins
but in the rain
of blood and dark
here we were, the flitting sparks beneath her and
floundering and hounded, she stumbled
and she fell
but with intention.
beckons her and writhes in her attention, in her
focus but she chose us over darkness, because
upon her landing she had realized, she realized
there's hope but not in arms of shadows
and there's bravery in light.
you broke the cogs inside you
by whittling your waist,
paling hard your heart until your
insides felt so cold,
you’ve always felt so
o l d
with your body breaking
long before you starved or
carved into your skin with dirty glass—
(broken bottles from the grass)—
you strummed bruises down your arms
because the vital organs of your
rested in the body of self harm.
you forgot how to falsely forgive, you
learned to live
with a heavy lead of hate inside your heart;
there’s something about fury that is liberating
something about hating them that’s easier, that’s
than letting them abuse you
in your skin—
every time you take the blade
you are letting them back in
every time you bruise
you are choosing them
you are choosing them.
sometimes you remember
you are part of earth;
recovery poem #13 alt title Swayyou feel like you sway like Chicago stoplights
rusting low above the windy city
your mother’s favorite city
but you have never broken through
the tall walls of airports,
despite O’Hare’s delays—
you sway because the blood
inside you shifts between its Junes
and its Decembers,
embers of the harvest moon wide
inside your wrists, a bass
you hear like noise – just noise –
you still believe you’re made of noise
and not a note of music
and that is why you cannot sing
and that is why you cannot play.
with one leg in the darkness and one
hand in the quiet light
you sway and sway between the two—
but seize the rhythmic day
and fight the heavy night.
on dandelions and other things...we weren't children after death
already sick at five and six,
in our lungs
we sold bouquets of dandelions
obnoxious yellow pools with sticky stems
you were charismatic even then
at eleven i was coke
and at twelve you were my heroin--
when we held each other close
while we tied each other's nooses
you drew blood from all the bruises on me,
you drew blood
you drew love
you drew blood and love from me--
i learned something about people, then
if i'm destroyed, i can't destroy
if you destroy, you cannot self-destruct
Everything is RedNo.
How could this have happened!?
We were laughing and drinking lemonade on the front porch.
I told a joke and she started laughing loudly, her golden mane swishing in the summer air. She clutched her sides and fell back into the blue and white beach chair. I stared laughing with her because she had one of those laughs that was contagious. I don't even remember what the joke was or why it was so funny. Then she was staring at me, tears of amusement coming out the corners of her blueberry eyes. Her lips parted into a wide smile, pearly white teeth beaming at me.
But then she turned her head to look behind her.
The laughter stopped.
My eyes shifted to where her gaze was, only to see red.
I could have sworn I was looking at hell itself.
And it was coming for us.
I turned to look back at her. She was staring at me wide eyed, her once blueberry eyes now red. The tears of amusement washed away by the tears of fear that started dripping down her cheeks, falling on t
''Keep calm and just sleeping'' Creepypasta''se a desatado una serie de asesinatos, donde las victimas encontradas son personas de entre 20 y 30 años , con ademas un collar de perro''
-¿Un collar de perro?, que raro- Yo soy Angela tengo 16 años, pronto cumpliré mis 17.Vivo con mi padres en una pequeña casa cerca del mar, era muy divertido pasear por la playa en la noche, hasta que por alguna razón comenzaron a matar gente.Por lo que veo en las noticias es gente joven a la que matan , entre 20 años mas o menos en adelante. Ahora que lo pienso todo esto comenzó a suceder una semana después de que una chica un poco menor que yo desapareciera. . .
''Raymi Labra , una chica de tan solo 13 años de edad , a desparecido en nuestra ciudad,vecinos indican que la chica era huérfana ya que nunca veían salir o entrar a nadie más que ella a su casa. Se deduce que pudo irse con alguna amiga u en el peor de lo
I Waited For You"He-Hey! Do you know what flight number thi-" They were already gone before she had even finished what she wished to say.
Another group of travelers, another set that wouldn't speak to poor Cecilia. Silently, the sad girl wondered if something was wrong with her appearance, or if she spoke too quietly. Sighing, the young lady entered the bathroom again, but the mirror was still shattered.
"It's not going to just fix itself, you know.."
Were the words she always mumbled, but she was much too nervous to actually tell someone at the desk that this problem existed. She figured someone else would...eventually.
Quickly scrambling out, as not to gather the blame, she went back to where her sign was. It didn't look it, but the sign was heavy enough that the little thing could hardly move it. At least, that's what she figured.
Her mind didn't want to wrap around the truth.
So she stood by it, and continued to wait for him to come out.
Cecilia just considered herself persistent after the thi
NEC 202: Black DogAidan sat alone in the necromancy building, only candlelight and a single tome to keep him company. The small handful of first years had already left, no doubt not needing to do any research in after course hours. He himself had rarely seen the other necromancy students, and wondered if they even bothered to attend. It wasn't really his business, of course, but it would have been nice to have an upperclass student to research with, as the library felt so hollow, devoid of happy feelings.
The book he'd fetched was called Sacrificed Beasts in Magic, a catalog of assorted creatures that had been used in accomplice with spells. When he'd been looking it up, he'd noticed that a copy of the book existed in the Magic Languages library as well, bringing about the thought that department used animals in sacrifice. His goal was more to find out what happened to them after they'd been sacrificed.
He flipped through the pages, and they turned with little noise. The book must hav
SnipedThe assassin stared down his scope at the politician he was about to eliminate. He wasn't sure who this man was or why the contractor wanted him killed. It didn't matter. Only the job mattered. And, of course, the payment.
Just for a moment he watched as the politician's lips moved, delivering what was no doubt a very stirring speech. Perhaps he'd have to catch a news clip of it later, or maybe some overzealous kid would have the whole thing posted on Youtube, grisly death included.
The assassin smiled at the thought. It might be a nice change to view one of his jobs from a closer angle for once. Yes, he would definitely try to find this on Youtube later, play it over a few dozen times and savor the thing.
But for now there was still the job to do. He pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. Or almost nothing. Something was wrong.
The politician's head should've burst like a water balloon, or some reasonable facsimile. Instead nothing much had happened.
The politician had wince, put a han
HalfwayIn the dark of the night, Aldona used her key card to enter the building. She could hear the obsessive Master Lax in his room, listening still to Thompson's music from the Court of Love. Hours now he had been listening to the same music and it made her even more uneasy to hear it again.
Both he and Faith had both assured her that having done a thing once, he would not repeat it, that once ha had gotten an idea out of his system that he would then move on to the next new thing. But... while she knew that his words were not lies in his mind when he said such, his behavior told another story entirely. She peeked into his room and saw him as she'd left him, making hand motions that imitated the dance steps of the Court of love production. It wasn't the behavior of a man ready to move on. She looked at his face, still lost in the same pieces of music as it had been for hours now. No, that was the face of a man STILL obsessed. Whatever it was that had moved him to stage the terrible show, it
First SightThe wolf’s expression was blank, empty of all feeling. Anything that might have made her human was absent. It should have frightened him or at the very least, reminded him that the loup garou were not the humans they had been. Etienne would have delivered the killing strike without hesitation. Augustin couldn’t, even as he gripped his knife tighter in hand. How could he kill a woman, even a wolf and still live with the memory of it afterwards?
He cast a quick look over his shoulder, hoping for and feeling relief that his father wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. By all rights, he was justified in killing her but he couldn’t quite see the animal underneath. She looked human in spite of her bared teeth and the amber colored eyes that marked her kind. Something stopped him from following through on his father’s orders. Augustin sheathed the hunting knife at his waist and knelt, offering his hand to her. “I’m not going to hurt you. Can you…sp
The HoundsThe creature approached, its eyes glistening with hatred and rage. Toxins dripped from its malformed maw. It had a single goal, a single promise to humanity, to tear away all hope from its victims, leaving them a self-loathing, quivering nothing. Bony claws clicked against the stone floor of my mind, scratching and scraping away at it. The skeletal tail of the dark creature slowly writhed in perfect rhythm with the movement of the creatures deteriorated body. Soon it was joined by another of its kind, almost identical. Darkness followed the creatures with every step they made. Their numbers grew until they were many, some shrouded by the darkness, some bringing the darkness closer with their footsteps. Those that were visible were mangled and plague-ridden. They had come for me, to take away what was rightfully mine. Yet I couldn't find the strength, the motivation to stop them. So there I sat, corroded and distraught, as the hounds circled and closed in for the kill.
(Never sleep.) Carlisle learned to fall asleep with his eyes open -- because to him, the Blindness was weakness, and all the world echoed in the colors of his room. Lunatic, he was told, was the very word for him. Lunatic. Loon. Loony. Loony Tunes rolled off in his sleeping-twitches as the TV blared like melodic sirens. Sylvester peeled raspberries into the sticky, August air, and Carlisle shook at the nightmares playing in his head.
The chair moved, but Carlisle still slept. Unhinged from its haunches, it tipped over, and Carlisle awoke with the thud and the pain. He jumped to get his gun from under the bed -- but it wasn't there.
"Aren't you looking for this?" a tall, sallow cadaver whispered. Her eyes were sunken and black and her hair fell to her ankles over her thin white dress. "Aren't you looking for this?" she repeated, a knife in an unsteady hand. Carlisle began to inch backward, slow and steady -- do not offend the demons, he had heard once. Do not offend the
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