I can feel the worms in my chest
I'm floating in the halls of this charcoaled house
White sheets are still over me
My body is underneath the floorboards
They've been feeding fresh money and pastel coins
I can taste the smoke on my tongue and I'm not who you loved
His buried within walls and these fake novelties
My rage is bleeding, dripping into the air
I'm haunting the books behind the couch
Next to the expired food
beneath the pens and pencils filled with sizzling oil
I'm not some unwanted guest crying over the lost
I found happiness once
I hold on to the pictures in my head as the summer set a flame
I wanted to run from home
Bring everything I own, birth with, and laugh to
But I stayed with the disasters
Oh, how they blew away my home
The rats singing as the wood fell
Wildfires dancing in the kitchen as it floods in my bedrooms
and the least of my worries was I was dying
Waiting for another answer.
It never came, and it's my fault that I was lying
About the Creator
KuroHoshi
A Poet, An Artist, and the person who tries to become a living star
I write the about the creatures from underneath my mind
Some are happy, others are truthful, but I'll let you decide what's their fate
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Comments (6)
Lying In my own twisted Convulsions That cause a Repulsion To all that veer near this place Of which I used to call "Home." Yet, There is no "home." A place to close my eyes at the end of the day As my breath left my lips And my connective tissue That was my blood Inured, Lacking Inertia To propel me to be who I was, let alone The person I needed to be Lest I bereft and beget The demon from within me As the gates to hell Creak open its wrought iron Unleashing their Ungodly horrors unto this house As the money they gave me Was denied at the rivers Styx Thus, I was drowned in a lack of compassion Again as I trudged through the bottom Whipping Cerberus At the gates' door Becoming the portal To the hell they gave me The ink they use signatures their fate Away to torture much worse than they gave me As the water they drink toxifies them from their heart to their Pores As the wrath Self-pity Loathing and Contempt All pours Out of me Marinating this dwelling Seasoning it, Making it ripe for their misfortune For though I have been released from one life to the next I am not free For that's the second occupation of the truth As of now, I'm enslaved to its first prerogative, Which is to piss me off. Their venom intoxicated me Being buried with me Yet, as flowers arise from my grave Whose soil that the worms have churned The hate still remains Be warned Of my own toxic venom And thorns As though I may have been cloaked, covered, by a blanket The feast has not ended for the "Shadow's Banquet." Well, that was probably too much... but, I hope You like it, KuroHoshi.
That was intense. Very well done.
This was an intense and dark piece, written with such a masterful thought process! Beautifully executed and breath taking! Great work!
This was really an intense piece with so many good phrases and word choices. Well done :)
Dark and heartfelt!!!! Left some love!!!
This was so heartbreaking and poignant! Loved your poem!