I have tons of mixed feelings about so much
I cry, I empty yellow crusted pus out of my eyes into my aching hands,
I choke on acidic bile screams until my throat is strained raw and swollen,
All I have ever had and want slowly push their way through; such tiny arteries buried in love's festered wounds,
That's what I do, I crawl around the frigid slush and mud amongst torn corpses of lost hopes, dreams and desires thinking if I eat enough of the larval maggots growing fat off of them that I too can make my stomach stop heaving,
I eat them greedily, their gummy bodies melt slowly between my cavities like fat bubbling in a roasting pan before Sunday's family supper,
I am not satisfied,
I try to hold back my outrage at how unfair it all is when finally, mercifully my skull explodes spraying gray matter across the dirt around me,
And still the mercy was only temporary, fleeting release under the pressure of love's boot grinding my face into powder,
But I deserve this, never satisfied, never happy, never can I fully appreciate the virtue of suffering,
Still my corpse will beg to be wanted while it too finally collapses on itself,
The muscle and tissue rot as I am wrapped in reams of filmy plastic,
Still when it is bloated with pestilence I will beg to go back to crawling amongst the multitudes of insects and frost, wishing that the sun would show me clemency and eviscerate my being in white hot light,
Because cutting away the sinuous layers preventing my warm innards piling between my thighs isn't enough to give,
Because beating my own appendages until the bones sustaining my structure crack under the weight of my indiscretions isn't enough,
Because my love isn't enough,
It is never enough
It is never
It is
It is
Poetry by Boogie_Down
Read 877 times
Written on 2017-12-29 at 00:11
Tags Horror
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'Untitled'
What do you do when love isn't enough?I cry, I empty yellow crusted pus out of my eyes into my aching hands,
I choke on acidic bile screams until my throat is strained raw and swollen,
All I have ever had and want slowly push their way through; such tiny arteries buried in love's festered wounds,
That's what I do, I crawl around the frigid slush and mud amongst torn corpses of lost hopes, dreams and desires thinking if I eat enough of the larval maggots growing fat off of them that I too can make my stomach stop heaving,
I eat them greedily, their gummy bodies melt slowly between my cavities like fat bubbling in a roasting pan before Sunday's family supper,
I am not satisfied,
I try to hold back my outrage at how unfair it all is when finally, mercifully my skull explodes spraying gray matter across the dirt around me,
And still the mercy was only temporary, fleeting release under the pressure of love's boot grinding my face into powder,
But I deserve this, never satisfied, never happy, never can I fully appreciate the virtue of suffering,
Still my corpse will beg to be wanted while it too finally collapses on itself,
The muscle and tissue rot as I am wrapped in reams of filmy plastic,
Still when it is bloated with pestilence I will beg to go back to crawling amongst the multitudes of insects and frost, wishing that the sun would show me clemency and eviscerate my being in white hot light,
Because cutting away the sinuous layers preventing my warm innards piling between my thighs isn't enough to give,
Because beating my own appendages until the bones sustaining my structure crack under the weight of my indiscretions isn't enough,
Because my love isn't enough,
It is never enough
It is never
It is
It is
Poetry by Boogie_Down
Read 877 times
Written on 2017-12-29 at 00:11
Tags Horror
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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