i. I don’t dream, so I write about sleep, or dying.
I don’t cry, so I write about tears.
I’m so scared of myself I have to pretend I’m somebody else.
I’m tired of life, so I write about drowning, and death.

There is a tremor in my throat,
the shivering strangle of a song.

ii. I’m breaking.
There is nothing delicate about the sound of thunder.
Fix me.
I don’t have the strength to scream through another summer.

iii. The wind is filled with the cries of the dead,
the sickest part of the night is upon us.
There are voices out there in the darkness,
and the smell of burning flesh.

iv. And every time dawn breaks we have become a little less.
Maybe we’re all just ghosts that refuse to rest.

—  giraffevader - Night terrors
Belle of the Ball

Under glaring lights and eager eyes,
She will arrive, defining perfection.
Perfectly done, made up in advance
through pre-filtered rose perceptions. 
Light will dim, but eyes won’t wander
as by day or night, She wears our ruin.

— © 2016 Jade Onn

One day, one rhyme- Day 774

Jim Byron was a traveler,
He had no fixed address
So where to send his Birthday card
Was anybody’s guess.
Tony Skint had six bungalows,
Two flats and an estate,
So by the time he got his cards
They were a year too late.
Nick flew an airplane, night and day
Could be countries apart.
His cards were all sent by email,
Because Nick’s friends were smart.


When I explode
into a billion tiny
stars, you’ll be sorry
as my light burns
your face and eyes
and we stand still
holding hands
as the state burns
and the absence
of power is replaced
with the light
of the galaxy.

Don’t you know
you’ll be the death
of me? That this
is the end? I am
a black hole
barreling down
a straight stretch
of highway doing
ninety and you are
a car crash, smashed
and wrapped around
a tree. There are
no survivors.

There is only
sun and sky.

Depression’s Diary #32

I am nothing // the electronic beep of a supermarket scanner // background noise, static decay // this is Friday afternoon dying on its rusted axis // “See darling, if you don’t work hard in school, this is where you’ll end up” // flowers rotting in the reduction bay, beauty engrained in price // I walk from restless dawn, away from the sun, keeping to midnight // eighteen seemed like an impossible dream and now… // …now  there is nothing left, nothing like a city is made out of nothing, nothing like a grey canvas, nothing like the silence that ex-lovers leave behind // loud and terrible and useless // strike another day from its wretched litany // this one has come and tried to smile, failed and fallen to the gutter // no stars in the sky // failing to hit the moon // dressed in a smart suit, an empty cage // give me something, a disastrous anything // a heart attack would be better than a head full of echoing corridors // a passing breeze // neither warm nor cold // just here, all the senses on standby

- Chris Lees

Silence fills this empty room,
and I promised that
I wouldn’t leave traces of
us here, but some
promises are meant to
be broken.

There are holes from where
punches met drywall,
scratches from where words
met flesh, and scars
where razors screamed
louder than words.

We are bloodstains and
white outlines,
leaving behind memories
of the things that
have happened, and
letting the world
know about the things
that can happen.

Engelbaum: Page 36


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Symphony No. !!!!

Long mornings
Long pause
Self mourning
Crow calls

Out the window
Out my mind
Out memento
Far behind

Get a check
Get a clue
Happy blue

Call a cab
Call a doctor
Smoke a dab
Eat a lobster

Light your Joke
Crawl to bed
‘Evening folks’
Within my head

Drink your beer
Go to work
Cry some tears
To tear-jerks

Light brown eyes
Light brown skin
Library fines
Vomit slim

All alive
But somehow dead
Pointless drives
Words unsaid

Sandy shoes
Sandy dance
Sandy booze
Morning cramps

Dressed in black
For no reason
Modern fact
Monsieur Treason

A Broken Compass

The Long Island Tea would make darkness
turn into a swimming pool

the attractive lifeguard would tell me
not to run or throw paint into the fountain

which had treasure at the bottom of it
and people have had their fingers melt off
by trying to get a hold of it


get to know me meme: [2/5] Actresses - Crystal Reed 

“I just have to say that Allison– it’s so hard for me to let go of her. And I went into, like, a week of mourning because a part of me left with a part of her. She’ll always be there with me. I’m so proud of her. I don’t think I would have been so upset that she died if she wasn’t so special to me. But she really was. It’s so sad. I don’t know what to say. I definitely feel it too. I feel it.”

falling fast—
images blur into
smudges of colors 
void of meaning

a lullaby lulls 
you to sleep,
filling your mind
with soft clouds

overheated machinery—
your body, overworked,
burning to make room for
spare thoughts 

a careless stream hides
rocks slicked with water;
how careful you are to avoid them

blinding light keeps you
in the dark,
constantly fearing perceptions

groggy eyes and shaky hands
bear witness to the trial
of which you’re both judge and defendant

awaken spring with 
wildflowers’ scent and
enjoy the lack of calamity

a metal tang haunts your tongue 
a phantom of past adrenaline 
and all the things you’ve done

wisps of laughter
reach your ear like
bells that linger for years

grappling with the intangible,
you find infinity’s presence
embedded in finite things

pretend not to hear them,
their words must not propel you
in a force of opposition

within your dreaming sleep,
you live a life too vivid, too rich
to ever replicate awake

—  sensory poetry for the signs // fauxastrology