Submissions by Coldwelth
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Fall
The wild wind rushing
Bubbleing, tickling gut
My hair whipping
And cloths clinging.
9.8 meters faster
By the second
I go splat.
Bubbleing, tickling gut
My hair whipping
And cloths clinging.
9.8 meters faster
By the second
I go splat.
614 reads
0 Comments
Upside down flag
Upside down flag
Hanging there, in my room,
Draping over my head.
Helf mast come soon.
I"ve spoken to patriots.
I think they're all slaves.
I sit there and watch
But rebellion I crave.
Stand up and watch,
But not to their eyes.
Get up and watch,
Watching them die.
Hanging there, in my room,
Draping over my head.
Helf mast come soon.
I"ve spoken to patriots.
I think they're all slaves.
I sit there and watch
But rebellion I crave.
Stand up and watch,
But not to their eyes.
Get up and watch,
Watching them die.
592 reads
1 Comment
In The Dark
Carbon dioxide rises
Choking me.
The oxygenated liquid
Feels like acid on my skin.
Darkness cuts me away
To the light
That bleeds and bleeds
Over again.
Choking me.
The oxygenated liquid
Feels like acid on my skin.
Darkness cuts me away
To the light
That bleeds and bleeds
Over again.
479 reads
1 Comment
Connor
Connor, oh, I truly hate you.
You laugh at hurt and people who do.
Next to me, you don't even know
That I cut and what it does.
Oh dear Connor, your sick and mocking.
Your the reason I'm not stopping.
You haven't even heard me sing
Or read this violent poetry.
Draw with markers, laugh at cuts...
Do it 'till I've had enough.
Do it as a passing joke.
Do it 'till I slit my throat.
Cutting myself on the stones.
You don't know me,
How it hurts.
No Connor, no pain...
You laugh at hurt and people who do.
Next to me, you don't even know
That I cut and what it does.
Oh dear Connor, your sick and mocking.
Your the reason I'm not stopping.
You haven't even heard me sing
Or read this violent poetry.
Draw with markers, laugh at cuts...
Do it 'till I've had enough.
Do it as a passing joke.
Do it 'till I slit my throat.
Cutting myself on the stones.
You don't know me,
How it hurts.
No Connor, no pain...
536 reads
2 Comments
Patterns on the floor
Patterns on the ceiling
You can't even move your neck.
And you know, 'cause you set
You just ended it.
Convoluted to the next.
You life
Filled with strife
Determined outright
And was ended tonight.
After you hollowly
Swallowed
Those pills in the bottle.
Not convulsing, or thrattled,
A gentle death's rattle.
Lying there
In the lobby
A perilized body.
You can't even move your neck.
And you know, 'cause you set
You just ended it.
Convoluted to the next.
You life
Filled with strife
Determined outright
And was ended tonight.
After you hollowly
Swallowed
Those pills in the bottle.
Not convulsing, or thrattled,
A gentle death's rattle.
Lying there
In the lobby
A perilized body.
471 reads
0 Comments
Shades Of Gray.
Gray bleakness
it is all the same:
boredome
mondane.
Silver flashes of a world in pain and
restless nights, for toprid days
of
lazy craze and so
meakly
insane.
it is all the same:
boredome
mondane.
Silver flashes of a world in pain and
restless nights, for toprid days
of
lazy craze and so
meakly
insane.
822 reads
1 Comment
And the Sharp Things Go-
Snickety, pickety
Scratchety, ratchety
My kiddie scissors
Go wackily hatchety.
Press, stare.
Flesh sliced bare.
My razor blade
Goes with out a care.
Poke, pin
From deep with in.
Some pointy thing
Goes under my skin.
Cry, scream.
The tears won't stream.
I'm killing my soul
And I've never been seen.
Scratchety, ratchety
My kiddie scissors
Go wackily hatchety.
Press, stare.
Flesh sliced bare.
My razor blade
Goes with out a care.
Poke, pin
From deep with in.
Some pointy thing
Goes under my skin.
Cry, scream.
The tears won't stream.
I'm killing my soul
And I've never been seen.
730 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Coldwelth
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