Poetry twinkie’s poetry

twinkie

𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝒷𝓁𝓊𝑒𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎~
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"Perils of Love"

The night is frightening,
The light is distant,
But while the light is enlightening,
The night is persistent.

Long goes the Church bells ringing,
Bong… Bong… Bong…
The hart in the forest singing,
Forever calling me wrong.

For deep in the forest lies a snake,
Whom among the bramble dwells,
And when he might awake,
Then he may lift his spells.

“Snake,” I ask,
“What is thy name?”
And he awoke from his bask,
A gaze that set my heart aflame.

“My name is Love,” the snake replied,
His body coiling tighter,
“Do not flee from my pride,”
Love’s soft hisses make me lighter.

He slithered up my body gent,
The coils wrapping ‘round me,
My mind, he had bent,
The scales he bore so pretty.

“Love, I pray, do not harm me,”
And he squeezed me so,
“My dearest pet, do not be,
So frightened of this perfect beau.”

And so I felt my life leave me,
In hinders I leave with doubt,
For in my final breaths of fiery,
“Damn this world!” was all I left to shout.
 
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"The Morgue"

Dark, cold,
A room full of candlelight.
The damp chills me to my core,
An eerie creak of floorboards.

Silent whispers of the dead in the walls,
Holding a long, drawn out grudge.
Placed with no pity,
Soon to be buried deep in the ground.

A sharp blade,
Dull mind.
The scent of death, heady in the air,
Nulling my senses.

Zero remorse for the ones we have lost,
For this is my job.
Placing my faith in the sick and the weak,
Holding it above their heads.


How did I come to be so morbid,
Yet I am still in my golden years?
There is no mercy,
For Death will come to collect your soul.

Behind these frigid walls,
The freezers speak clear.
They hold the vessels of our conscious,
Pressed into our minds like prisoners.

It is good to know that you’re in the care,
Of someone skilled in this trade.
Making a casket fit for the gods,
So you can lay comfortably.

Come down to the morgue,
Have a friendly visit.
Come down to the morgue,
The last place you’ll ever sleep.
 
Racing with the idea of time,
Over and over, waiting for a win.
Loving the wind in my hair,
Liking the aspect of my scars.
Even the greatest of gods could never beat me,
Running out of asphalt.

Beating the world at its own game,
Losing when I must,
After all, blood always runs red.
Daring to be the best,
Intercepting the most dangerous of tricks.
Never giving up, even when I trip and fall,
Getting back up again.
 
“Out of Body"

The shimmering wisp,
Floats out of my body,
As if I were dead,
Watching over me with a close eye,
Keeping its words tight.
 
Terror.
It gives us life.
It tears us down quickly.
But if there’s one thing I have learned,
Be scared.
 
“Dizzy Grace”

A slight wave,
That tilted gaze,
Your firm handshake,
A gesture I love.

A warm embrace,
That gentle smile,
Your clumsy steps,
A gesture I love.

A joking laugh,
That guilty look,
Your awkward stance,
A gesture I love.

Give me your expressions,
Give me your smiles,
Give those gestures to me,
For they are what I truly love.
 
Perfect Glass

Your eyes gaze right into mine,
A cavern that can never be filled.
Praying for some sign that I might love you,
But you find nothing, just a cold stare.

Warm and brown,
Those irises shine.
Something so beautiful behind them,
But nothing could make me care.

How much time would it take for my eyes to fully meet yours?
Why haven't they done so yet?
Maybe I would never know,
But there is something certainly there.

I love you, but could never admit it,
A pitiful sorrow in my soul.
I have cast you away,
But your eyes, they always share.
 
"Little Girl, Gone"

I’ve run,
Yet I don’t know where I’m headed.
Maybe I’m going to the woods,
Or to my Nan’s.
Maybe I’m going to the ocean,
Where the salty air touches my lips.

I don’t know why I ran,
But I think I needed an escape.

Maybe I’m scared,
Frightened,
Very possibly alone.
Maybe the look of glitter in my hair,
On my skin,
Maybe it bothered them.

I don’t know what it was,
But whatever they said,
Whatever they thought,
It hurt me in more ways than one.

That’s why I ran.
I ran away
 
"Pocket Pocket Pocket"

I disappeared into the pocket of myself
But there was nothing I could do.

That crippling anxiety,
The social interaction.

I fold away.
I fold away from all that is real.

Those folds won’t stay
But the creases will

Folding and folding,
Never stopping or ceasing.

Until I eventually rip in two
 
“Symbiote”

Underneath,
That’s what it feels like.
Out of control,
Unable to see clearly,

Unable to steer,
Inside the mind.
Dripping black blood,
Clear is no option.

Clear the way,
This beast is vile.
A placid soul underneath the filthy grime,
Never able to escape.

Never seeing, never hearing,
Can’t be in control.
That’s always what it feels like.
Underneath.

Carnage.

There was never a time,
Where I could feel safe.
Sane.
Alone.

Alone in this vast world,
But something inhabited,
Overpowering.
Controlling.

Controlling my every move,
A hungry menace,
Bloodthirsty.
Devouring.

Devouring every being in sight,
A violent snap of the neck,
Gore.
Death.

Venom.
 
"Natasha"

Her eyes gleamed in the darkness,
That lovely lavender.
She smirked,
Her dark plum lips curved up into a tender grin.

Nothing was normal,
Nothing about her.
Her heart was gone,
She breathed through her nose.

There was no beat in her chest,
Nothing she ate,
Nothing behind her eyes,
Even if she was dead.
 
"Swelling Sands"

The sweet water sea.
It calls out to me.
Soft waves crash on the shore.
Giving life to the sand below.

Her waters hold treasures,
Ones no one can withhold.
 

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