Submissions by 3Y3S-THVT-S33 (Electra)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
Uhhhh
SELF POEM
Published
6th Jan 2025 7:39pm
6th Jan 2025 7:39pm
No Title.
"Did I not give all the love that I could give?"
Her hands are stained from the blood she drew from her skin.
She drew the monster back in.
She's saving them.
Why can't they see?
But they demand her to stop cutting again.
So, she rots, and she boils within.
The monster wants blood,
And if it's not hers,
It'll surely be theirs,
So, she hides in a corner and begins to cut her skin again.
Her hands are stained from the blood she drew from her skin.
She drew the monster back in.
She's saving them.
Why can't they see?
But they demand her to stop cutting again.
So, she rots, and she boils within.
The monster wants blood,
And if it's not hers,
It'll surely be theirs,
So, she hides in a corner and begins to cut her skin again.
#dark
#despair
#grief
#monsters
#SelfHarm
74 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
6th Jan 2025 2:12pm
6th Jan 2025 2:12pm
No Title.
So, I take my bones to a dirty grave,
Because maybe dying is better,
Then bleeding in a sweater.
Middle of the summer,
In this hot weather.
Because maybe dying is better,
Then bleeding in a sweater.
Middle of the summer,
In this hot weather.
#dark
#grief
#SelfHarm #summer
#SelfHarm #summer
56 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
4th Jan 2025 2:53am
4th Jan 2025 2:53am
No Title.
That little girl's rotting corpse,
Still moans in my bones,
And no amount of makeup,
Could make her pretty again.
Still moans in my bones,
And no amount of makeup,
Could make her pretty again.
#childhood
#dark
#despair #grief
#despair #grief
128 reads
2 Comments
DRUGS POEM
Published
4th Jan 2025 2:49am
4th Jan 2025 2:49am
Methamphetamine
Needles were never meant to pierce your skin.
My dear, you are not a doll.
Those needles can't sew you back together again.
My dear, you are not a doll.
Those needles can't sew you back together again.
#addiction
#dark
#drugs
#grief
#SelfHarm
144 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
2nd Jan 2025 5:34pm
2nd Jan 2025 5:34pm
No Title.
I don't want anyone to cry for me.
The girl they should have cried for is dead,
But He looked at me and said,
That little girl isn't dead.
The ashes of the house she once lived in,
Is where she lies,
Her bloodshot eyes,
Her charred body.
Paralyzed all but her eyes,
Darting back and forth,
Taking in the burnt ruin,
Of the place she once called,
Home.
The girl they should have cried for is dead,
But He looked at me and said,
That little girl isn't dead.
The ashes of the house she once lived in,
Is where she lies,
Her bloodshot eyes,
Her charred body.
Paralyzed all but her eyes,
Darting back and forth,
Taking in the burnt ruin,
Of the place she once called,
Home.
#anger
#dark
#despair #emptiness
#despair #emptiness
68 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
2nd Jan 2025 7:32am
2nd Jan 2025 7:32am
I Cannot Forgive the Little Girl.
I don't think I'm actually healing.
I just walk around with the ashes of a little girl in a jar,
And I claim that she is somewhere better,
Somewhere safer,
And that she's okay.
When in reality,
She is locked within my bones.
How much she cries daily sickens me.
Those ashes are just a piece of her,
But her heart stills beats a broken tune.
She begs for me to love her,
But I cut her,
And tell her that I hate her.
When I do try to mend her wounds,
They are cut so far down through the bone,
I vomit when I feel them. ...
I just walk around with the ashes of a little girl in a jar,
And I claim that she is somewhere better,
Somewhere safer,
And that she's okay.
When in reality,
She is locked within my bones.
How much she cries daily sickens me.
Those ashes are just a piece of her,
But her heart stills beats a broken tune.
She begs for me to love her,
But I cut her,
And tell her that I hate her.
When I do try to mend her wounds,
They are cut so far down through the bone,
I vomit when I feel them. ...
#anger
#hate
#healing
#loneliness
#rejection
67 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
2nd Jan 2025 4:09am
2nd Jan 2025 4:09am
No Title.
I ran from the burning stones,
For it had never felt like home.
I ran till I found a place to lay my bones,
I found a home,
Resting alone,
No light to expose its ruins.
I let my flame touch its torches,
But instead, I set the home on fire,
And as I watched it burn,
The words in my head turned:
Child of ember,
You can never escape the ashes.
For it had never felt like home.
I ran till I found a place to lay my bones,
I found a home,
Resting alone,
No light to expose its ruins.
I let my flame touch its torches,
But instead, I set the home on fire,
And as I watched it burn,
The words in my head turned:
Child of ember,
You can never escape the ashes.
#dark
#death
#denial #fire
#denial #fire
55 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
1st Jan 2025 9:24pm
1st Jan 2025 9:24pm
Love Isn't Always Like the Poets Say.
Ugh.
Poets only write about love.
Love poems make me sick.
So, when I do write about love,
I don't write to an unknown lover.
I just write about Love herself.
Her raw and broken form.
I feel her deeply because she flourishes within me,
She's not as put together as the poets say.
She gets dragged round like a rag doll,
And sort of treated like a pet.
They speak of her as if she is Desire,
But most poets don't know,
She is actually Unknown.
She is the Storm,
Not the Sun or the Light.
She is the Breaking.
She...
Poets only write about love.
Love poems make me sick.
So, when I do write about love,
I don't write to an unknown lover.
I just write about Love herself.
Her raw and broken form.
I feel her deeply because she flourishes within me,
She's not as put together as the poets say.
She gets dragged round like a rag doll,
And sort of treated like a pet.
They speak of her as if she is Desire,
But most poets don't know,
She is actually Unknown.
She is the Storm,
Not the Sun or the Light.
She is the Breaking.
She...
#emotions
#love
#universe #war
#universe #war
104 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
1st Jan 2025 7:46pm
1st Jan 2025 7:46pm
Ghost
I thought I would have to hide my scars,
But they shine in broad daylight, and still, nobody sees them.
It's as if I am a ghost.
I stand in front of a people,
My shattered frame's fragments piercing those who stand closely,
Yet they still say I am not broken.
I starve,
But they don't see my ribcage.
I kill,
But they don't see the blood.
I sob,
But they don't see the bloodshot eyes.
I lie,
And they believe me too well.
I tell you,
I am a ghost,
For a thousand hands have been pushed through me,
Yet no one can...
But they shine in broad daylight, and still, nobody sees them.
It's as if I am a ghost.
I stand in front of a people,
My shattered frame's fragments piercing those who stand closely,
Yet they still say I am not broken.
I starve,
But they don't see my ribcage.
I kill,
But they don't see the blood.
I sob,
But they don't see the bloodshot eyes.
I lie,
And they believe me too well.
I tell you,
I am a ghost,
For a thousand hands have been pushed through me,
Yet no one can...
#emptiness
#ignorance
#loneliness
67 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Jan 2025 11:27am
1st Jan 2025 11:27am
Mourning the mornings.
Every morning, I wake up, I wish I weren't in this place.
Every morning, I wake up, I wish I wasn't this way.
Every morning, I wake up, with the same old rage and pain.
Every morning, I wake up, and I feel just the same.
Every morning, I wake up, until the mornings no longer came.
Every morning, I wake up, I wish I wasn't this way.
Every morning, I wake up, with the same old rage and pain.
Every morning, I wake up, and I feel just the same.
Every morning, I wake up, until the mornings no longer came.
#despair
#emptiness
#frustration
59 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
1st Jan 2025 10:51am
1st Jan 2025 10:51am
Preacher.
Sinner the best at sinning in disguise,
You wonder who's the culprit,
of that reward, and I say,
It's that preacher at the pulpit.
You wonder who's the culprit,
of that reward, and I say,
It's that preacher at the pulpit.
#disappointment
#hate
#religion
70 reads
1 Comment
ANGER POEM
Published
1st Jan 2025 3:13am
1st Jan 2025 3:13am
Angry Little Child
Anger holds me like the ribcage holds the heart,
Like the vines strangle the trees,
Like the prison suffocates the sinner,
Like the conscience that eats at the guilty,
Like the banks enslave the river.
Taunting me to defeat,
Choking me till I can't breathe.
Like the vines strangle the trees,
Like the prison suffocates the sinner,
Like the conscience that eats at the guilty,
Like the banks enslave the river.
Taunting me to defeat,
Choking me till I can't breathe.
#anger
#frustration
86 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by 3Y3S-THVT-S33 (Electra)
